Longingly, lovingly yours (INDEFINITELY DISCONTINUED)

4

The smell of blood quickly reaches my nose and when I realize that it's coming from me, my nostrils flare, eyes shut tight as dizziness takes over, everything too much to handle, I feel too weak, the cold floor harsh under my body.

I try to stand up again, it's instinctive, that need to hide somewhere out of sight, to not remain out in the open like that until I can understand, but my legs won't obey, body too heavy for them, limbs sluggish and when I hear feet run over the room in which I am, my heart falls into a frenzy because I haven't managed to hide before the door opens and a sour scent enters in the room with force, surprise and shock that crawls over to me and wraps around me like a vine.

"What happened here?" a voice blurts out before I get to see the scent's body walk around the bed to find me on the ground, pitiful and ill-shaped, exposed. In danger.

"Oh sweet girl... what have you done?".

I growl out a warning when the man walks closer, too close to me and he stops, hands raising up to show me that he's unarmed, no wish to harm me. "It's okay, sweet girl, I'm only here to help you" he murmurs, as if I haven't heard that one before.

But I can smell him, I can tell he doesn't intend to do anything bad, as hard as it is to believe. All I can smell from his scent is worry and a need to care for me, but I can't let that change my mind so easily.

It could be a ruse, humans always use so many of them, fake facades to get to us as they want before they stab us in the back.

He slowly points at my wounds, ones I can't see because I can barely lift my neck to stare at my own body, but I can feel them, the wet and warm feeling that coats my fur, the smell of my blood thick and unnerving.

"Your stitches broke, I need to do them again, can you allow me to do that? We can't have the wound stay open, it'll get infected" he asks gently, voice soft, so soft that it makes me confused.

Where's that underlying anger, malicious tone that I usually hear? Where's that tiniest hint that always tells me the human near me is about to do something harmful?

Why can't he just be like the others so I can know what to expect? It's so much easier to expect something bad because then I can have a reason to not trust, but this... why does he make me want to trust?

I only trust family, I only trust the ones closest to me, so why do I feel like he can be part of that group as well? Who is he?

He slowly, very slowly steps closer, hands where I can see them until he moves one to slide across my fur, the act echoing with one of the flashbacks I had and it clicks that they are the same person, but uncertainty makes me try to move away from him nonetheless, my inner voice telling me that this is a trap, it has to be.

"You're a sweet girl, you went through a lot, didn't you? You did your best to survive, to protect the ones close to you. You're safe here now, your pack is waiting for you and they're worried about you so you have to get better, okay? Can you do that for them? I can help you, but you need to trust me, sweetheart, I can't leave this wound unattended, can you let me do that?"

My... pack? Does he mean my family? They're all safe?

Sensing that this man is telling the truth, I close my eyes and let out an exhale of relief. If they're safe... then I don't care what happens to me, as long as I know them in security.

Taking my reaction as approval, his arms slide under my body and with a groan, he lifts me up from the ground and back onto the bed, the comfortable warmth getting rid of the cold the floor had transferred to me, something I wish to snuggle into, if it weren't for my stupid body.