If the Fae died or not, was entirely up to his fate because Islinda did not give up on him. As a huntress prone to dangers in the forest, she never departed with her medicine pouch and had kept it inside her quiver alongside her scanty arrows.
Hence, she easily reached for the skin bag and when she opened it, picked the herbs that she needed and put it in the bowl. She pulled the drawstrings and closed it, putting the medicine pouch back in the quiver, at least what was left of it.
Some of the herbs she had picked during her hunts and the rest she had bought from medicine peddlers for a huge price. Parting with it all just to treat a Fae that might kill her later, Islinda did not know whether to laugh or cry at her pathetic kindness. Having grown up with a stepmother who didn't care about her well-being, the herbs were for her use. But not anymore.
When it came to treating a Fae, Islinda's knowledge was stretched, hence she nearly put in everything that she felt could "attempt" to cure him. The herbs she mixed were to stop the bleeding, fight infections and also nullify poison if there was one. Not that there was any assurance that it would work anyway. There were different poisons with their antidotes, the gods knew that she was merely fulfilling all righteousness here.
Islinda first separated the leaves of the herbs from the stems and picked the stone she had found as well and went outside to wash it with the clean snow. She added a bit of the ice into the bowl since she had no water with her and then returned to the warmth of the hut. Exhaustion was beginning to seep in but she could not permit it.
Using the stone, Islinda began to grind the leaves that she earlier chopped with her hands until it was a rough paste, and the bowl leaked from under as a result of the constant strike to it. Done, Islinda expelled a deep breath, and the next, she was kneeling beside her handsome Fae.
Checking his wounds once more, it was oozing fresh blood and she swallowed a lump down her throat fearfully. It was not looking good. She had no choice but to tear off a piece of her skirt and wet it with the snow before returning to him once more and began to clean the wound.
She was gentle so as not to cause him more pain than he already was and aside from his eyes fluttering open and close during the process, he didn't make a sound. The wound was not entirely clean of the dried blackish blood but it was enough to see the raw wound.
Here she goes, Islinda inhaled deeply as she took an appropriate amount of the paste and spread it over the glaring wound. It wasn't the inhumane scream that ripped from his mouth afterward that scared the gods out of Islinda, but rather the once normal fingers that flicked into claws and swiped at her.
Good thing that Islinda was alert and had already expected the worst to happen, hence she was able to dodge it on time. Her heart couldn't stop beating as it dawned on her that he would have clawed her face and wounded her. He was a predator through and through and what a luck she had to deal with him, she dripped with sarcasm inwardly.
The Fae was howling in pain and it gladdened her heart somehow. If he could feel pain, it meant that the paste was working or worse, she just quickened his death. Islinda cringed inwardly, she would rather not think about the latter.
"Listen…." She said when he had his hand over his wound and his heated gaze looked like he wanted to tear her head off. Islinda swallowed, she was not ready to die by his hands yet.
So she told him, "I can't heal you if you hurt me. I am human and would not be able to recover quickly. I might even die." She referred to his wicked-looking claws.
She focused her attention on him and not the claws that oddly held her curiosity. Islinda couldn't help but be awed by it. And yes, she has totally lost her mind.
" I-it hurts…. " He choked out.
"I know….. " Islinda breathed, looking into his beautiful yellowish amber eyes and was so entranced by them that she didn't even realize she was leaning towards him.
She reached out under his careful yet calculating gaze and touched his ear, feeling the soft tip of it that didn't feel so different from a human's except that the Fae's eyes closed with a sigh and he was leaning into her touch.
Islinda was stunned by the reaction, having not seen that coming, no, she was shocked by her courage to touch a Fae's ear with his dangerous claws close enough to attack If this went wrong.
However, the gesture gave her ideas and she muttered, while holding his gaze, "It's going to hurt but focus on the sound of my voice and it's going to be okay."
He nodded slowly and she was caressing the back of his ears once more, his eyes closing to relish her touch. Were their ears really sensitive? Islinda wondered. It felt like petting a cat except that this one was bigger and had the tendency to end her life before she even blinked.
Touching his ear with her left hand, Islinda carefully reached for the bowl again and this time made sure to accumulate enough paste to rub on the wound once and for all. Amid her efforts to be stealth, Islinda knew the moment he heard the movement of the bowl because his ears perked up as if picking up the sound and she said to him, softly,
"Listen to the sound of my voice, it's going to be fine…." She tried to lure him to the soothing effect of her voice.
Islinda didn't even realize how close they were to each other with her kneeling on either side of him. When she finally applied the paste to the rest of his wounds, he let out an animalistic roar that sent cold shivers down her spine. She saw her life flash before her eyes when his arms bound around her waist and Islinda expected his claws to jam into her sides.
Instead, he pressed her to his body and she let out a sharp breath as she could feel the hard, taut chest and the way his muscles tensed up from the stress. His claws were gone as he kept to the promise of not hurting her, but his nails were now digging into the skin of her back enough to draw blood. Not to mention the way he wrapped around her so tightly, Islinda knew without a doubt she was going home with bruises.
They remained that way until the pain subsided and his arms loosened just a bit. Islinda was acutely aware of how intimate they were that a blush crept up her neck and warmed her cheeks. This was the first time she was this close to a man, not to mention being in his arms.
Her heart was beginning to pound in her chest and he must have heard it because he lifted his face and her throat suddenly dried up. Even with the sweat on his forehead, Islinda has never seen a man as handsome as him and she was tempted to kiss him.
The abrupt thought jostled her back to reality and Islinda hurriedly yet carefully got off him, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. It wasn't until Islinda looked out the small window that she realized that the sun was setting and another chill washed over her. She had to go now!
The Fae followed her gaze and must have realized what she was thinking because he told her, "Go."
Islinda's eyes widened, he was letting go of his prey. Call her stupid but she was left with an indecision to stay behind and make sure he survived the night or return to the village with her hunt and face her stepmother.
Thankfully the sensible part of her brain worked, and Islinda realized that she couldn't stay here. Even if this handsome Fae spared her life, he was in no position to save her from other creatures or animals that might hurt her, even as powerful as he looked.
Without a second thought, she began to pick up her things, saying, "I'll come back in the morning…." Islinda trailed off when she realized what she was saying.
What if he gets better in the morning and decides to kill her? No, Islinda did not believe that. He would not hurt her. She had no idea what even assured her.
What if he's gone before morning?
Strange enough, that thought bothered Islinda. She did not want him to leave yet. At least, not without knowing a bit about him.
She said to him, "If you survive the night, don't go anywhere. You're not in a position to leave yet. " He owed her that.
He did not answer her but Islinda was very much aware of his eyes on her as she slung her arrow on her shoulder. She then pulled the carcass to her feet and threw it over her shoulder and was ready to go.
There was no goodbye, not when she hoped to see him again. Islinda was about to leave when he said, "Valerie. "
She turned to him, "What?"
He looked at her with his piercing gaze, "Valeria. That's my name."
A smile curled her lips and she said, "I'll see you tomorrow, Valerie."
And with that, she left through the door.