Build a Fire

Thomas was usually good at putting the pieces in front of him together fast, on taking quick and decisive action. But he thought he was dead. He should be dead. And yet somehow this woman healed him. This woman whose scent was unlike any other he’d ever smelled, but he knew that she wasn’t a wolf. So why did she talk of wolves as if they were commonplace? Was a pack - the pack that had brought him to her - intentionally breaking pack law? He didn’t know, he didn’t have any answers, but it was best for him to get far away from here; he - and, more importantly, Evie - could not get mixed up in whatever this was. “I appreciate the help, I appreciate - whatever it was that you did to save me. You went out of your way to help a stranger, you have nothing to apologize for. But I can’t stay here. I had - I had a bag with me, is it... If not, is there a phone I can use? I need to call my sister...” Evelyn would come and get him, she would finish treating him in the privacy of their current home, and then they would take off. Put as much distance between themselves and this place as they possibly could...

Sihtric chuckled and shrugged. "Nah, I'm not that much of a talker... I like to listen. But at least I do talk." Which was more than Bran did most of the time... or Evie's brother for that matter. He was a little surprised when Evie told him that her father could have more children too. He left it at that though, he figured they weren't there to discuss their private life. He helped pack the food and then took the bags to carry them back to the apartment. "Do you guys have jobs here in town already?" He asked once they were outside of the shop. "Because if not I'm sure Bran could ask around some... he knows the people with their own business here in town and they seem to like him."

“You’re definitely holding your own,” Evie replied with a reassuring nod of her head. As for what she said about her father having more children, too, she saw the look of surprise on his face and - while he didn’t pry, either - she still explained, “Our mother passed away a few months ago. So my father could very well end up getting married again and having more children, I just had never really considered it until now.” Especially because she would never know his new mate or any potential half-siblings. Her father was Caleb’s second-in-command, and supported him above his own children. Meaning he was part of the reason they were on the run, and would never be a part of their lives again. Sihtric moved to help her with the bags, and she thanked him before answering, “We do - my brother’s working a construction job and I’m working at a cafe in town. But I very much appreciate the offer. I take it Bran has been living here for a while? Or was he born here?”

As Sofia gave him a local anesthetic, she gently told him, “By law, I’m required to report what is considered an assault with a deadly weapon.” She assumed, given his chart, that he knew that. She also assumed that he would not be pressing charges or even offering information in regards to who was responsible. Would she like to be wrong? Of course. Which was why her words were simply stated. She could always hope that this time would be different, that this time he would make a different choice. Regardless, she needed him to know, “At the end of the day, you and your care are my priority. Treatment for your wound comes first, all right?” Having administered the anesthetic, she pointed out in regards to his joke, “Technically you had to get cut open first or I wouldn’t be sitting here stitching you up. And I’m going to start cleaning the wound, okay? If you need me to stop at any time, just let me know.” She began to irrigate the wound, scrunching up her nose, “The couch is that bad, huh? You could always ‘accidentally’ spill something on it. The kind of something that won’t come out. Not that I’m advocating for destruction of property.” She punctuated that by briefly looking up at him with a small smile.