Chapter Text
The day had started just like any other. It was on the hot and dry side of summer days, and Byleth thanked the stars that the season was almost halfway over. He made his morning rounds to feed and water the animals around his cottage, and checked in on his current patients. The two does were healing up from their wounds nicely, a result of missed arrows from careless or inexperienced hunters. The hawk’s infected eye still needed to be tended to, but he was starting to regain the weight he’d lost from being so sick. Lastly, it looked as though the fox Byleth had rescued from a bear trap would be ready for release tomorrow morning.
He cleaned and redressed the wounds for his patients, except for the fox. After administering eye drops for the hawk’s eye, Byleth decided it was safe enough to speed the natural healing process along. He held his hand close to the hawk’s infected eye, careful to make sure he wouldn’t get savaged by that ferocious beak for his trouble. An amber glow formed under his palm and glittering motes of light sank into the flesh. Almost instantly, the infection and inflammation began to lessen in severity. Before the hawk reached his breaking point in tolerance, Byleth brought his hand away, the glow fading, and released him from his restraint. He spoke softly to the bird of prey, which worked very well in soothing him.
“How does it feel, friend?” Byleth asked the hawk, which began to preen himself.
“Better. Not itchy. Not much hurt,” the hawk replied in a screech. He nodded, satisfied with the answer and the result, and left a second, freshly killed rabbit in the enclosure for the hawk to eat.
Satisfied, Byleth went back into his cottage to retrieve his bow and quiver of arrows, a healer’s kit, and a couple of game sacks. He hung a sign from his door to indicate that he was out hunting, and then set off into the forest that surrounded his home. As he stepped into the shaded woods, he welcomed it with a soft sigh of relief. It was a brief sanctuary from the sweltering heat, and he already couldn’t wait for autumn to arrive.
The first thing he did was check his snares. Two of them successfully caught a nice-sized rabbit each, though he noticed that one of them didn’t die cleanly. Byleth frowned faintly as he looked at the snare, retrieving both it and the rabbit with an apology. He’d have to check it to see if there was something faulty with it. If it killed like that again, he’d have to dispose of the snare wholesale. With a soft sigh, Byleth left to find a game trail that he wasn’t on the verge of overusing.
It was along that trail that his life would change significantly.
With two quails and two pheasants added to his game sacks, the sun was starting to reach its zenith. Byleth decided that it would be a good time to head back, in case there were any human or animal patients waiting for him. After a few minutes, a brief sound caught his attention. It sounded like a whimper of pain, and something metallic clinking together while rustling the foliage. Carefully, Byleth made his way towards the source of the disturbance. What he saw as he pushed aside the low-hanging branches made his heart break.
The wolf would’ve been beautiful if it wasn’t for the gashes along its side. Its fur was silvery-purple with markings that seemed to fit a typical timber wolf. Though, instead of dark grey patches, instead this wolf had dark purple with a faint sheen of silver. Byleth could also see that one of its paws was caught in a bear trap, and that it seemed to be malnourished. His mouth formed a grim line as he realized this must have happened after he stopped using this game trail to avoid exhausting it.
With great care, he stepped towards the wolf. It lifted its head weakly and fixed Byleth with unusual, yet very beautiful, lavender eyes. They kept eye contact for a few short seconds before the wolf dropped its head, closing its eyes as if awaiting whatever came next. He crept closer and examined the trap, checking to see if it was one of those that had a release switch on it.
“Hmph, I hope whoever did this steps into their own trap,” Byleth muttered when he couldn’t find a switch. He looked at the wolf, surprised to see it watching him with what could almost be described as human curiosity. “This is going to hurt, and I’m sorry for that.”
He took out his kit and retrieved a contraption that would help to force the two, sharp ends apart without using his hands. The blacksmith called it a ‘jack,’ if he remembered right. Either way, Byleth placed it between the teeth and began to crank it with one hand. His other was free to help stabilize the wolf’s leg, who tolerated it abnormally well. Once it was open enough, he quickly brought the leg out and collapsed the jack. The teeth clamped together with a horrible sound.
What concerned him was that the wolf didn’t even try to make a move for freedom. Byleth looked up and thought he saw relief in those lavender eyes, but then it seemed that the wolf went unconscious. He followed the chain of the trap and pulled the metal spike it was attached to out of the earth. Placing the jack back into his kit, he readjusted his quiver and bow so that he could sling the wolf over one shoulder. He slung the bear trap over his other shoulder, and began the trek back to his cottage.