A Saving Purpose [Draco]

[Zero]

It was always dreadful for small communities when something like this happened. What Sahara had stumbled onto was not a plague, no, the death toll was not nearly high enough for all that, but it was enough to make things quite miserable for this tiny little village on the outskirts of the forest.

The children were hit the hardest, falling quite ill - one particularly frail girl had actually died. Half the adults were also sick, but they were not hit as hard by the disease.

Sahara had found the small collection of houses and farms almost a week ago. The residents were happy to welcome her as soon as she revealed herself to be a medicine woman of some sort. Every waking moment had been devoted to easing the suffering of the ill children.

Almost everyone was on their way to a full recovery. Only a few of the sickest children really needed her care now, but even they were getting better. It made her very proud to have been able to make such a huge difference. The death of the one girl was heartbreaking, but if she hadn't come when she had at least four other children would likely have perished before the sickness ran its course.

Just outside the village she returned night after night, collecting more herbs to make into medicine for the humans. She had to make sure they had enough to keep dosing the most vulnerable children even after she moved on - she had taught two women a little about making more medicines than just the one they needed now. If they had even a little knowledge it might make a big difference in the future. That was worth more than any amount of coin - not that she had asked for any. Taking money from these poor people that were already suffering just seemed wrong.

And she didn't need money. Sahara was mostly self-sustainable anyway.

The satisfaction and fulfillment her work gave her was payment enough. What more noble purpose could one have in their life than helping, and saving, others? For that reason she hummed a happy little tune as she worked, almost completely oblivious to all but her plants.

[Draconian]

It smelled... bad.

Nail frowned deeply, staring at nothing.

His nose drew him here though and when he tilted his head back to catch it under the sickness he could only sigh. That was going to be his. Having found himself without a Master, Nail wouldn't survive long without out. Now he needed to find a new one and stick to them like a burr

He'd found himself some pants a time ago, they fit him tightly. No shirt. The idea of clothing was still a little odd but he did it because most that saw him naked either stared of screamed. Nail was unsure which of these was a good reaction.

So. Here he was, hovering on the outskirts of a village that smelled sick.

And his new master, whoever that was, was right there. Well. Somewhere.the only part that smelled good.

Nail wasn't unattractive. Sort of. Looked odd though.  Horns. Odd fluffy ears. Long rusty red hair. A sight to behold. And there. Nail's gaze turned sharp and he caught it. They were nearby. A deep inhale and he closed his eyes.

Then followed.

The first sight of her was perfect. She made his heart flutter and his head throb. Then, without further ado, he tackled her. His arms curled around hers and mindless for a moment about the idea of not dying and not having a monster... His teeth sunk into her shoulder, and he growled at the taste of her blood on his tongue, and it lapped at the flesh between his teeth before he pulled away.

And stared, wide eyed. "I'm so sorry," he said huskily, hand moving to wipe at his mouth.

[Zero]

Sickness, disease, and death always smelled bad. They were foul, acidic odors that hung heavily in the air wherever they were present. Most wolves would have tried to avoid places with high concentrations of such scents.

Sahara sought those smells out in her quest to save as many as she could.

It was that ominous scent that saturated this place, and the rich scent of her herbs right beneath her nose, that masked the approaching scent of the hell hound from her usually keen nose. She had gotten down on her hands and knees, carefully plucking the little leaves and petals and placing them in her basket when it finally registered that something was wrong.

By then it was far too late, of course.

A strangled yelp escaped the little she-wolf as her body collided with the ground, a heavy weight on top of her. The impact drove all the air from her lungs and her green eyes were wild with shock and fear.

A keening whine escaped her as she felt the sharp prick of teeth sinking into her shoulder. Someone had bitten her? Or something! Her nose wrinkled in revulsion as Nail's scent washed over her. It wasn't that he smelled bad exactly, only unnatural. There was canine scents mixed with something that sent chills up and down her spine.

"Get off me!" She snarled, he'd wrapped her in his arms, but she struggled beneath him, body squirming...ineffectively. Whatever he was, he was huge and heavy!

His apology fell on deaf ears and as soon as his arm passed in her field of vision Sahara lashed out, teeth sinking into his forearm with a savage, feral growl. The blood that touched her tongue tasted strange and foreign. She'd never tasted anything quite like it.

[Draconian]

A jolt ran through Nail and he felt the connection snap into place.

For him. Blood had been exchanged. He was bound to her now. Pupils dilated and he just blinked down at her the taste of her blood in his mouth. Like a fine wine. It was bitter and metallic and now he'd be able to find her anywhere. Probably not one of the most wise choices he'd ever made. Nail panted softly, wriggling his arm that she'd so sharply chomped upon.

"That hurts," He said simply, unable to tell his Master to let go. That was a command and only she could give them. A pause and he tilted his head, noticing how easily her teeth sunk into his arm. How fearless she was. Usually a woman would squeal and push away. Try to flee. This one just... Bit.

"What are you?" He asked eagerly, his ears perking up and his tail wagging behind him, the red fluffy fur swaying. Except for the blood around his mouth he could almost be called handsome. The strange ears, the strange horns.  "I'm Nail," He said, wriggling his arm still, "I'm yours now, Mistress."

[Zero]

The thing was still talking. Why was it talking to her?!

Sahara couldn't really process what it was saying to her. It smelled strange, unnatural, and tasted foreign. The wolf in her was bristling at being pinned down as she was, and all her mind could do was shout to get away from this thing that had attacked them. Because it had attacked her! There was blood smeared on her shoulder were it had bitten her and caused her to bleed. It had tasted her blood.

"I said get off me!" She snarled, releasing his arm and thrashing wildly until she had wriggled out from under Nail by sheer tenacity. Or had he lifted off her?

The wolf in her didn't know and didn't care, fur burst from her body as her shape twisted and in seconds Sahara was racing into the nearby woods on four large wolf paws, the wind whipping through her blond, red, and cream fur. Under normal circumstances she'd have delighted in running through the trees - it was the wildest and most freeing experience for a wolf.

Instead of enjoyment, she felt terror as she attempted to flee whatever the strange creature that had attacked her was.