Taking the canteen with a shaky hand, Naekan took a deep drink- probably more than he should have- and then set it on top of the girl's bag. With a long sigh, he ran his fingers over the injured arm. He could feel the wound healing faster now that he was resting and at ease. His genetics would take care of the problem, and with any luck, he would be feeling many times better by the morning. Casting a glance toward the girl as she closed her eyes and settled into sleep, he stood and moved over to one of the trees on the edge of the tiny clearing.
Stiffly raising his bandaged arm, he pressed his palm against the tree. Its bark, like rough skin, responded warmly. He could feel the steady flow of waters and sugars surging through its body, drawn from far-reaching roots. It would have seemed unclear whether the wind had picked up, or the tree was moving itself, but its long branches began to sway gently and churn its leaves in a sound reminiscent of ocean waves. The tree had accepted his awareness, and ever so slightly, one of the lower branches seemed to bend downward.
With all the swift fluidity of his jaguar counterpart, Naekan leaped upward and onto the wide branch, settling comfortably and letting his chin drop to his chest. He closed his eyes, and soon, the gentle rocking of the tree took him to sleep.
The early morning had been even cooler when he awoke. As the sun crept slowly upward to drive away the stars, the air had turned to ice. Feeling his limbs begin to ache and his nose and ears turn red, he made his way further up along the tree, climbing from branch to branch like some sort of acrobat. Upon reaching the top where the warm sunlight could reach his face, he pulled back his sleeve and began to tear away at the bandage the girl had covered his arm with. It itched horribly now, and the scent of his own dried blood was more than a mild annoyance.
After pulling away the last of the bandage, he flexed his wrist, observing the wound closely under the light. The long, jagged wound that stretched along two sides of his arm was now a mark, covered by a fresh layer of shiny scar tissue. He pinched the scar and winced; it hurt as though the wound was still fresh, though at least it wouldn't bleed again. Strength would return soon enough. Pulling his sleeve back down, he began the descent, slow and steady as fatigue still hindered him. Eventually he reached the ground with a solid thump, and a small hope that the girl had thought to bring food.
((OOC: Man, I'm a busy bee lately. Sorry to tell you this, but on Sunday, I'll be leaving on vacation until next Friday-ish, so don't expect any posts during that time! x.x ))
