The handsome incubus had stopped making noise, but Rosalie could still feel his heart beating every so faintly. She thought that he should have died from his horrible wounds, but there was a stubborn frown on his brows — he refused to die.
When she tended his wounds, she couldn’t help but smile at the irony in what she was doing; usually wolves and wolf girls hunted and ripped stomachs open — and here she was stitching someone’s stomach back together. She had a needle and thread that she had stolen from a seamstress in the next human village; she had once seen how human girls used their delicate fingers to stitch together embroidered shirts and handsome dresses and she wanted to give it a try too. She never thought that she would use these things to tend to an incubus.
She made sure to brush off the dust on his guts before she pushed them back in. Her hands were soaked in blood and her sensitive nose itched with the scent of wounded flesh and fresh blood.
Once she had stopped the initial bleeding, she ventured into the forest to collect herbs and moss that would cool the wounds and freeze the blood that oozed through the stitches.
Even if she did everything she could, Rosalie didn’t know if he would survive; his wounds were far too deep and if any of his organs were damaged... there was no way for Rosalie to fix that.
When she came back to her cave with an armful of herbs and moss, she smiled. She knew that he was going to live. A few pebbles had been moved and his arms were in a slightly different position than when she left him. He had stirred while she was gone; if he had the energy to make unnecessary movements, then he would be able to live.
——————
Over the next couple of days, Rosalie battled his rising fever and cleaned his wounds to the best of her ability. She wasn’t sure if his blood had already been contaminated; she could only hope that the moss and leeches would do the trick. And despite the desperate fight for this stranger’s life, for the first time ever since she began to live in this cave, Rosalie felt her heart pound with excitement. For the first time in her solitary life, she had a purpose beyond living quietly while avoiding contact with other creatures. She had always thought that her contemplative life in this quiet patch of forest made her content and it was all she could ask for; but now that she had something else at hand, every fibre of her body tingled with purpose.
Her every thought was consumed by how she could improve her herbal mixture in order to keep the fever at bay and what she would do once the incubus awoke. In a matter of days, she had invented new herbal paste mixtures designed for the incubus body that would have otherwise been ineffective with her own body.
And so it was that when the incubus awoke, Rosalie’s heart leaped with joy at her success. He was alive and it was all because of her. This sense of achievement made her tail swish left and right and her eyes glitter with excitement.
——————
“I’m Rosalie,” she said when he opened his eyes.