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Description

Low growls were emitted from the crimson prairie’s throat at the predicament he was in. Large bleeding gashes lined his sides from an earlier nasty fight between a pair of rooks. Roswell was no stranger to fights but he was a stranger to losing. He was a stranger to fear. He knew he was in trouble if the rooks picked up on his blood trail and decided they wanted to finish the competition once and for all. Instinct would push him to fight but at this rate, flight might start growing to be the favorable option.
Letting out a heavy snort of air from his nostrils, he took a step forward before turning his head to scout the area. So far, no sign of those damned rooks. Good. Looking forward, he made his way towards shade thanks to a large tree that hung over it. Leaning against the tree, he slumped to the ground with an audible sigh as his blood stained the nearby grass red. Roswell decided silently that he would rest, for a small while. It was not like he had much of a choice when his body was practically willing him to sleep. So with a few licks to his wounds, he lowered his head and slowly closed his eyes.

Dot was no stranger to rook fights, she swore they went in out of their heads sometimes for the simple action of getting to earn a lady’s heart. She found out that she preferred a non-violent way to things and to simple lend her hand in patching up the injured souls. Dot also found out that she had a nose for smelling the victims of fights, a fact that stayed true even to this moment. She had overheard the signature roars and hisses of a fight before the stench of blood had hung heavy in the air. Gathering the little bundle of herbs she had been carrying, she followed her nose in pursuit of the lone ranger that had lost the battle.
The light-colored dove watched as the smaller crimson prairie had looked behind him, and she had immediately crouched behind a nearby large boulder. Holding her tail behind her, she waited for a few heartbeats before standing up. Letting out a sigh of relief at seeing him resting near the large tree, the relief soon melted into worry as she saw his sides heaving while blood dribbled down. She let out a silent ‘oh no’ before walking toward Roswell quietly as a large dove such as herself could. Raising her behind in the air, she began to position herself into a sitting position near him before her fur puffed out and then lowered itself. Now being comfortable, she could get to work.
The reason she was so keen on being silent and careful was that she knew rooks were usually rather prideful beings, especially after a lost fight. That ego and pride could become dangerous if not handled with a gentle and careful demeanor. Dropping her bundle of herbs to the ground, she moved her head forward to examine the wound properly. It wasn’t deep, thank Death, but it was still bleeding profusely. Lowering her head, she began to give the injury soft and gentle licks to clean the area around it. Her body stiffened up at the taste of blood as her tongue licked the area around her mouth for a break. Even after all the times she had tasted it, she could never get over the metal-like tang it had.
With a small shake of her head, Dot got back to work and soon enough the wound was clean. Looking down to separate her herbs to choose the right ones, she picked out the marigold along with a few others. Grabbing them in her mouth, she looked back to Roswell expecting to see the wound greet her a new but found the angry face of the rook instead. She moved her head back as Roswell moved his head forward, a snarl on his face.

“What are you doing?” He demanded with a hiss at the end as Dot blinked at him.

“Helping you of course. You’re injured and hurting. I can help.” She replied, voice as soft as downy feathers yet muffled by the herbs in her mouth.

Roswell raised an eyebrow before giving a shake of his head.

“Liar. No one helps anyone out here. You’re probably with those rooks.”

“Well, I do. And no I’m not. I don’t like that you all always have to act like a bunch of puppies to win a girl’s heart. That’s now how we are you know.” Dot chastised as Roswell looked at her for several moments before his gaze shifted to the space next to her.

A roar ripped through his mouth as his fangs were bared and Dot flinched. She watched as Roswell struggled to get to his feet. Turning her head to look, her eyes widened at seeing two large prairie rooks heading towards them. The herbs slipped out of her mouth as she whipped to Roswell and placed her hands on him, forcing him down.

“You’re hurt!” She exclaimed “You can’t get up. Stay down.”

Roswell let out another challenging roar before trying to shove Dot away. The dove took in a deep breath of air before letting it out as began to stand up. Using her strength, she forced the rook down before she stood up in front of him.

“What on Earth ar-”

“Protecting you. You’re hurt and i’m not going to let them hurt you.”

No one hurt her patients on her watch, no one. The gentle dove began a roaring bear whenever those under her care were being threatened and this was no exception. Launching herself forward, she let out a loud shriek that clearly caught the rooks off guard as they began to slow down. A mistake, for Dot used to the advantage to slam herself against one, which in turn crashed against his companion. Sinking her claws into their hide, she used the force to push her ahead and sink her fangs into the neck of the other as the leverage was used to throw the other away. Hooking the large curved claw on her feet into her current victim, she pushed herself off of them, earning her a scream of pain.

“Go! And leave him alone or I’ll come after you!” She roared out as she shoved both of the shocked rooks away using her head.

The rooks clearly knew what was their best choice as they turned away with low hisses before heading off. Dot glared at them as they ran off, licking the blood around her mouth before spitting it out. Turning back to Roswell, her dangerous look met the wide eyes look of shock from Roswell. The rook looked away as Dot approached him and sat back down. He said nothing more and let the dove return to her work as if nothing had happened.
He couldn’t believe what he had just seen, he had heard doves, especially prairie doves were no laughing matter when it came to their triggers. He hadn’t personally seen a dove shift with the exception of now. The gentle dove who had took it upon herself to help him had became a snarling beast, shedding blood as if it was nothing. Stiffening at the sting of the herbs, he glanced at her, not expecting her to catch him staring but she did. Giving him a warm reassuring look, she then turned back to spread the poultice against his wound. Letting out a sigh, Roswell felt his face growing warm as his feathers raised themselves to give him a more dignified look.

“Thank you.” He let out, voice gruff

“It’s nothing, really.” Dot replied softly as she felt his tail twining with hers and now it was her turn to have her face heat up.

“Roswell.” The rook muttered lowly as he stared at the flustered dove. “My name’s Roswell. Let me make it up to you.”

“I-I don’t know what y-you’re talking about R-roswell. You don’t need to make up for anything.” Dot stammered out as her fur began to puff out.

Roswell let out a small chuckle as his eyes began to droop once more and soon enough, he was sleeping with his head against Dot, leaving the poor dove a flustered mess before she let out a slow sigh.

“Dot. Dot is my name.” She murmured out softly as she finished applying the poultice and shifted into a more comfortable position as she glanced at the sleeping rook resting his head on her. He did have a pretty face after all, so maybe she would make an exception this one time for having someone repay her back.

Description

Low growls were emitted from the crimson prairie’s throat at the predicament he was in. Large bleeding gashes lined his sides from an earlier nasty fight between a pair of rooks. Roswell was no stranger to fights but he was a stranger to losing. He was a stranger to fear. He knew he was in trouble if the rooks picked up on his blood trail and decided they wanted to finish the competition once and for all. Instinct would push him to fight but at this rate, flight might start growing to be the favorable option.
Letting out a heavy snort of air from his nostrils, he took a step forward before turning his head to scout the area. So far, no sign of those damned rooks. Good. Looking forward, he made his way towards shade thanks to a large tree that hung over it. Leaning against the tree, he slumped to the ground with an audible sigh as his blood stained the nearby grass red. Roswell decided silently that he would rest, for a small while. It was not like he had much of a choice when his body was practically willing him to sleep. So with a few licks to his wounds, he lowered his head and slowly closed his eyes.

Dot was no stranger to rook fights, she swore they went in out of their heads sometimes for the simple action of getting to earn a lady’s heart. She found out that she preferred a non-violent way to things and to simple lend her hand in patching up the injured souls. Dot also found out that she had a nose for smelling the victims of fights, a fact that stayed true even to this moment. She had overheard the signature roars and hisses of a fight before the stench of blood had hung heavy in the air. Gathering the little bundle of herbs she had been carrying, she followed her nose in pursuit of the lone ranger that had lost the battle.
The light-colored dove watched as the smaller crimson prairie had looked behind him, and she had immediately crouched behind a nearby large boulder. Holding her tail behind her, she waited for a few heartbeats before standing up. Letting out a sigh of relief at seeing him resting near the large tree, the relief soon melted into worry as she saw his sides heaving while blood dribbled down. She let out a silent ‘oh no’ before walking toward Roswell quietly as a large dove such as herself could. Raising her behind in the air, she began to position herself into a sitting position near him before her fur puffed out and then lowered itself. Now being comfortable, she could get to work.
The reason she was so keen on being silent and careful was that she knew rooks were usually rather prideful beings, especially after a lost fight. That ego and pride could become dangerous if not handled with a gentle and careful demeanor. Dropping her bundle of herbs to the ground, she moved her head forward to examine the wound properly. It wasn’t deep, thank Death, but it was still bleeding profusely. Lowering her head, she began to give the injury soft and gentle licks to clean the area around it. Her body stiffened up at the taste of blood as her tongue licked the area around her mouth for a break. Even after all the times she had tasted it, she could never get over the metal-like tang it had.
With a small shake of her head, Dot got back to work and soon enough the wound was clean. Looking down to separate her herbs to choose the right ones, she picked out the marigold along with a few others. Grabbing them in her mouth, she looked back to Roswell expecting to see the wound greet her a new but found the angry face of the rook instead. She moved her head back as Roswell moved his head forward, a snarl on his face.

“What are you doing?” He demanded with a hiss at the end as Dot blinked at him.

“Helping you of course. You’re injured and hurting. I can help.” She replied, voice as soft as downy feathers yet muffled by the herbs in her mouth.

Roswell raised an eyebrow before giving a shake of his head.

“Liar. No one helps anyone out here. You’re probably with those rooks.”

“Well, I do. And no I’m not. I don’t like that you all always have to act like a bunch of puppies to win a girl’s heart. That’s now how we are you know.” Dot chastised as Roswell looked at her for several moments before his gaze shifted to the space next to her.

A roar ripped through his mouth as his fangs were bared and Dot flinched. She watched as Roswell struggled to get to his feet. Turning her head to look, her eyes widened at seeing two large prairie rooks heading towards them. The herbs slipped out of her mouth as she whipped to Roswell and placed her hands on him, forcing him down.

“You’re hurt!” She exclaimed “You can’t get up. Stay down.”

Roswell let out another challenging roar before trying to shove Dot away. The dove took in a deep breath of air before letting it out as began to stand up. Using her strength, she forced the rook down before she stood up in front of him.

“What on Earth ar-”

“Protecting you. You’re hurt and i’m not going to let them hurt you.”

No one hurt her patients on her watch, no one. The gentle dove began a roaring bear whenever those under her care were being threatened and this was no exception. Launching herself forward, she let out a loud shriek that clearly caught the rooks off guard as they began to slow down. A mistake, for Dot used to the advantage to slam herself against one, which in turn crashed against his companion. Sinking her claws into their hide, she used the force to push her ahead and sink her fangs into the neck of the other as the leverage was used to throw the other away. Hooking the large curved claw on her feet into her current victim, she pushed herself off of them, earning her a scream of pain.

“Go! And leave him alone or I’ll come after you!” She roared out as she shoved both of the shocked rooks away using her head.

The rooks clearly knew what was their best choice as they turned away with low hisses before heading off. Dot glared at them as they ran off, licking the blood around her mouth before spitting it out. Turning back to Roswell, her dangerous look met the wide eyes look of shock from Roswell. The rook looked away as Dot approached him and sat back down. He said nothing more and let the dove return to her work as if nothing had happened.
He couldn’t believe what he had just seen, he had heard doves, especially prairie doves were no laughing matter when it came to their triggers. He hadn’t personally seen a dove shift with the exception of now. The gentle dove who had took it upon herself to help him had became a snarling beast, shedding blood as if it was nothing. Stiffening at the sting of the herbs, he glanced at her, not expecting her to catch him staring but she did. Giving him a warm reassuring look, she then turned back to spread the poultice against his wound. Letting out a sigh, Roswell felt his face growing warm as his feathers raised themselves to give him a more dignified look.

“Thank you.” He let out, voice gruff

“It’s nothing, really.” Dot replied softly as she felt his tail twining with hers and now it was her turn to have her face heat up.

“Roswell.” The rook muttered lowly as he stared at the flustered dove. “My name’s Roswell. Let me make it up to you.”

“I-I don’t know what y-you’re talking about R-roswell. You don’t need to make up for anything.” Dot stammered out as her fur began to puff out.

Roswell let out a small chuckle as his eyes began to droop once more and soon enough, he was sleeping with his head against Dot, leaving the poor dove a flustered mess before she let out a slow sigh.

“Dot. Dot is my name.” She murmured out softly as she finished applying the poultice and shifted into a more comfortable position as she glanced at the sleeping rook resting his head on her. He did have a pretty face after all, so maybe she would make an exception this one time for having someone repay her back.