Half-Breeds

Sign says: "Help Wanted!"

We stare down at the fallen bear. 'I'm actually kinda sad that he's most likely gonna die. If anything he'll be picked up by some wildlife refuge or something like that. Oh well at least it's over now. Now we can-' something interrupted my thoughts. It was the bear. It... It was changing. Oh sorry. He was changing, into a human. Like what the literal fuck. I just pretty much killed one of us. Zoey and I sprints down the hill and check him out, I ask Zoey to grab the first aid kit. She runs and grabs it and I tend to his wounds. The wounds that I  gave him. 'FUCK! Why am I doing this. ..he attacked us so why am I helping him all of a sudden?' I push some extra tampons into his wounds.  Hey,  they were extra and handy as fuck when it comes to bleeding. I mean. That's what they are for right? After the tampons I wrap the wounds up and large band aids as well. I let him lay there for a little bit. Mind you he's unconscious. "hey Zo grab the pheasant and packs and let's start heading home."
"OK but we're just gonna leave him here?!"
"Hell no, we don't leave anyone behind" I say as I start picking him up and hoisting him onto my back. "you ready?"
"yeah."
"OK let's go." We start heading home. That's a mile and a half of heavy bear-man on my back and wings. Partly uphill the rest flat.
     We start heading home. It's about 4 o'clock now. By the time we get home it's going to be about 5:30 or 6pm. "How's he doin Zo? I can't see so..."
"he's doing fine, bleeding but fine."
"dammit, OK. We have to hurry so he doesn't bleed out." 'Who wants something that's just like them to die...because of them...i mean he did come running at us. There is still one question. How the FUCK do they keep their clothes on?!' I question myself. It's not like that 'what would Jesus do?' shit. Thank God. That would be boring as hell.
   I continue to think like this as we walk home. We're almost there and it's about 5:45pm. So that's good. My legs ache and Zoey had been silent. I wonder why she's so quiet? Oh well.
     We finally arrived home and I immediately jogged the bear-man into my room and layed him on my bed. "Zoey! Go get the bandages!" I yell as I start heading to the bathroom. I grab a dark brown towel and get it wet in the sink. I half sprint back to him and clean his wounds. I don't know how, but you can get a dark brown towel red with blood. He's still bleeding heavily and I'm gonna have to stitch it up. Dammit. I'm not do great at sewing. Oh well, it's gonna help no matter what. I ask Zoey to also grab the sewing kit. She brings the first aid kit and sewing kit over and sits down next to me. I open both kits and start cleaning his wounds again, this time with antibiotics and such. I toss that shit into the garbage can like a pro. Boom bitch. La tee da. OK I'm done. I quickly get the thread and needle ready and start stitching him up. It turns out OK. But it's helping with the flow of blood at least. Now that I'm done I cover him up with a blanket and put a pillow under his head. "Dammit I'm gonna have to wash the blood off of myself and the bedsheets." My clothes don't matter as much. They are dirty anyways and don't have much blood on them to begin with. I mean my wings were covering my back anyways. That doesn't mean it's going to be easy to wash my wings out. Dammit. My wings are hard enough to clean.
      I run to go take a shower and I notice that Zoey it just staring blankly out the window of our bedroom. Huh. Weird. OH WELL! I hop into the shower and scrubbed the shit or of my wings. Like Jesus fucking Christ. My arms are sore now. I walk out of the bathroom with a towel on my head and my super socially acceptable Spongebob Squarepants sweatpants and a dark green tank top. I only wear sports bras because life is too short to have a boob jail. Aka normal bras and push up bras.
      I walk into the living room and flops onto the couch. "so...want to help me make my Super Famous Pheasant Soup?" I say with a little jazz hands. She giggles and says, "YES! This is gonna be fabulous!"
    We walk into the kitchen and I walk to the freezer and get the bird out. "OK Zo, can you take the feathers off this" I say as I hand her the pheasant. "yeah I'll do it outside."
"good idea." She walks outside,  bird in hand. I start getting the pots and pans out. I set a large pot on the stove and the small one off to the side. I fill the large pot halfway with water and set it to a rolling boil. I walk outside to grab some fresh celery and carrots. I walk back inside and get out the cutting board. The one Zoey made from a piece of wood and some paints. It's beautiful. She gave it to me on my birthday. I wash of the veggies and start chopping them into small pieces. Zoey walks back in with the bird as I'm dumping the celery and carrots into the pot. I take the featherless bird and grab a butcher knife. I aim at where the neck and shoulders meet and start hacking away. When I actually get the neck and head of I toss it into the small pot. I then ask Zoey to fill it 3/4ths the way with water and set it on a back burner to boil. "so? Do you want to make your Zoeys special biscuits or mashed potatoes?" I ask. 
"I think biscuits are better for soup."
"awesome sounds good."
    
     She walks over to the cabinet and gets out her ingredients for biscuits. I watch her as she carefully measures and mixes the ingredients. She then pulls out a backing sheet and puts chunks of the batter into the sheet. I help her slide it into the oven. "I'm going to go check on the bear-man really quick" I say as I'm walking to our room. "alright.  I'll join you in a second" I laugh and say,  "Alrighty dighty". I head to our room and open the door. 'gawd.  I should watch him better his wounds could get infected' I walk over to the dresser and grab the wet paper towels and bowl of ice water. I dip the towels into the ice water and set them onto his forehead. Zoey walks in and asks.  "whatcha want to do now?" "Hmmmm...I'm not sure. What do you want for breakfast tomorrow?"
"I'm not sure nor really care."
"OK then pancakes it is!"
      The bear-man mumbles,  "Pancakes sound great"