Come on, just, please, just work, she prayed in her mind, staring at the little acorn with its now shriveling little shoots. She prayed to the All Mother, to herself, to her gem with its sharp edge, to the little acorn, to anyone who would listen. She just...needed this to work.

And it did. Her magic flared in response to her prayers, and she watched as the acorn shivered and took root, strong, supple tendrils shooting from it and pulling the torn, red edges of his skin together, weaving it together till the hole became much, much smaller.

It wasn't...complete. She didn't want it to be. With that much plant matter keeping his skin together, it would rot at a faster rate than his skin could heal, and it would be worse off than what he had started with. If she could, somehow, mainpulate his skin to close, that would be better off for everyone involved, but she shook the thought away. The idea of manipulating plants to weave skin together scared her enough as it was, she didn't want to think about the consequences of a bad casting with his body itself.

So she left the hole as it was. Smaller, safer, with a clear path for easy healing.

@czernobog

Glad you okay. Czernobog let out a rumbling huff of agreement, watching with watery eyes as Cayenne's blurry form moved closer. Something slotted against the red, infected meat of his chest, and the boar grumbled, twitching anxiously. The object itched, made him wish to be able to at least tell what it was, but still, he stayed as still as he could, straining to trust his tiny friend.

And suddenly, the thing moved, the same strange, worm-like growths shooting out from its center, slipping through skin and flesh to pull broken edges closer. It didn't hurt, persay, but it felt strange, foreign and wrong, like something alive and bound to him. It stopped after a while, and his breath stilled - until he inhaled deep and exhaled hard, as if testing whatever had been done. His chest whistled, but the meat at its edges didn't flap, and Czernobog blinked in amazement, snout pushing forward to boop Cayenne's fluffy chest, the massive beast grinning cheerily.

"Heaaaaaled! Heaaaaaaled!" The words were sing-song, still gravelly but obviously stronger, as if air had been escaping out of the hole before and was now boosting back the pig's volume. Happily snuffling into Cayenne's black fur, Czernobog's tail began to wag furiously, eyes falling closed in relaxation.

@Cayenne

She laughed, feeling him snuggle into her chest, reveling in her actions, and she hugged him as much as she could, her arms spread wide, laughing and crying at the same time. She'd never been so happy to heal someone before, because now, now, she knew her friend would live, and it was because...

It was because of her.

She'd never felt so happy, so prideful, so pleased with herself before. And as she hugged him, she suddenly felt the cost of everything she'd done kept at bay by fear and adrenaline coursing through her veins, and she wobbled on her feet.

She climbed a little ways onto her friend and curled up tight into a little ball, surrounded by Bog's fur, and said, "Sleep, Bog. Sleep good."

She patted him, chuckling a little. He was alive. She let her eyes closed, clutching onto that one thought with all she had, letting it be her lullaby. He was alive. He as alive.

[exit Cayenne]

His tiny friend climbed up on top of him, mumbling something, but her work had lulled him halfway to sleep already, and the gentle pats to his pelt only sent him farther into dreams. Slowly, Czernobog began to snore, slumping in total relaxation, tail still gently twitching from side to side. Visions of forests blooming from his chest, populated by miniature versions of his family, endless safety and light, sang him into a sleep deep enough to even put his mind to sleep, the mass of black, oily tentacles unfurling, green eyes dropping to the floor and dissolving away.

He was safe. Cayenne was safe. Willow was safe.

Time for rest.

[ exit Czernobog ]