Chapter 60
Trewoofe
Trewoofe remained in the healing waters, keeping Avice pressed tightly to his scarred chest. He obsessively checked her vital signs and used his mouth to give her more healing waters.
He did not know how long he stood in the river; all sense of time above and below had fled him.
All he could focus on was his soul-bound in his arms. His eyelids drooped, and he rested his chin on the top of her head just as a cough echoed through the cavern.
His head snapped up and he peeled his lips back to expose his fangs. “Who is it?”
Olwilla slid down the bank and the waters lapped at her hind paws. She held sacks and bags, containing all the items Trewoofe had requested.
“Just me, Lord,” the Wulver Queen reassured. “I have what you asked for.”
Trewoofe moved into the shallows and sat. He positioned Avice between his legs and held her tightly to him with a corded arm wrapped around her waist. His heart picked up into a gallop when Avice mumbled something and pressed her temple to his sharp collar bone.
“Did you hear that?” he asked, beaming up at Olwilla.
She wagged her tail. “I did! That is a good sign. Bramble is improving too. He woke for a while, ate, and then went back to sleep in the healing water.”
Trewoofe’s grin widened. “Wonderful. And Ashling?”
“We did as you suggested. He rested for a short time but still appears weakened. He asked after his witch,” Olwilla said.
“You may tell him there is some improvement. He is welcome to visit, but please let him know I think Bramble would benefit from him being there. A friendly face in a new place.” Avice mumbled again, and Trewoofe placed a kiss to her forehead.
“Yes, Lord.” Olwilla rolled her shoulders, indicating the bags on her shoulders. “What would you like me to do with the items?”
Trewoofe reached up and patted the flower covered bank. “Leave the satchel and pendant here. Everything else, please place in my nest.”
The Wulver Queen twitched her ears. “To enter, I will need to make a hole to get in. We did that when we went in to tidy up but sealed it back up again.”
He ceased his rummaging through Avice’s medical supplies and considered what she had said. Trewoofe was quite sensitive about his nest and liked it just so. He understood, however, that the walls of it were high; he had built it with Knuckers in mind after all.
“You may make another hole in the side.” He smiled down at his little witch. Her eyes were moving beneath her lids, and he was sure her colour had improved. “Leave it in place this time. Avice will need a way to get in and out with ease.”
Olwilla bowed and went about her tasks. Trewoofe gritted his fangs at the sounds of branches ripping and crystals falling.
He went back to rummaging, trying to find the container of yarrow powder tucked somewhere in Avice’s seemingly bottomless satchel.
Finally, he extracted it, pulling loose a half-dozen other items with it.
Her key and pendant fell out, and Trewoofe made a mental note to put the pendant back around her neck.
He knew his gift was precious to Avice, and she would feel better with the crystal against her skin.
Trewoofe bit the cork from the vial and spat it out.
He tipped some of the yellow powder on his tongue, scrunching his nose at the bitter taste.
Avice had told him yarrow was good for blood.
He hoped in combination with the magical waters and crystals it would speed her recovery.
He slurped more water, gargling the gritty slurry in his mouth.
Trewoofe pressed his lips to Avice’s and fed her the concoction.
He watched as her throat bobbed and a line appeared between her brows.
“I know, it tastes foul,” Trewoofe said.
He wiped his mouth before adjusting Avice against his chest, so she was resting comfortably against him in the shallows. He managed to loop her pendant around her neck, knowing it would reassure her when she awoke.
“It will make you better. It must.”
Trewoofe eventually dozed off in his vigil over Avice.
When he finally awoke, his hands and feet were wrinkled, and despite the warmth of the water, his exposed shoulders prickled with the temperature difference of the cavern air.
Trewoofe rolled his neck, it was stiff after resting his chin on the top of Avice’s head.
He studied his soul-bound. Her skin was pinker and her breathing more regular.
Hope bloomed in his chest. She looked better; he was sure of it.
Trewoofe tucked snarls of her soaked hair behind her ear and rested his clawed fingers on her pulsing jugular.
It was strong, firm, and regular. He grinned and nuzzled against her, dotting her with sloppy kisses.
“Lord?”
The Knucker startled, not quite believing his ears. He pulled back from his affections and stared down at her in wonder. Avice focused up at him in the soothing crystal light.
“Little witch?” A silver tear streaked down his cheek. “You are… you are…” Trewoofe cupped her face; he needed to make sure she was truly there, truly living.
“I am here,” she croaked, covering his wrinkly hand with her own. “Are we in the Underneath?”
“We are home, in the healing waters next to my nest,” he replied.
Avice smiled. “Home.”
Her eyes fluttered closed again.
Trewoofe lingered in the sparkling river.
He touched her face, her hair, and ran his thumb over her plump lower lip, circling her knotty scar.
He allowed himself a moment more to take in her visage, before gathering her in his arms and standing.
Water poured off them in cascades, sparkling and chiming as it dripped from their bodies and into the flowing river.
Trewoofe awkwardly shuffled Avice in his arms and hooked her medical satchel onto his shoulder.
Once he was satisfied that he had everything, he took his soul-bound into his nest, ready to tend to her every need.