Esterwood was a place many but the desperate avoided. Legends and spoken myths regale times of old and magic. The only story agreed upon was the tale of the One True Kingdom.

Malisa peered into the gloom as she crept to each massive tree, following the sighing brook. Her breathing hitched as her side started to cramp even though she knew she was fine physically. Her body began to slow as she alternated between hot and cold. What is wrong with me? Her thoughts raced in circles but she had no clear answers. She only knew to keep going forward, that she couldn't stop.

Finally, she saw it. The wounded creature lying just inches on the bank of the brook. It wasn't a creature that she recognized from around here but she had heard of such beasts. Myths of the snow white beasts with three tails.

Tales of their soft fur and cunning minds were legendary, no matter where you went or who you talked to. They had been hunted to extinction or so Malisa had been brought up to believe.

Now though.. this one was definitely in need of saving. Slowly she shuffled towards the beast, knowing that her movements were not quiet at all. She wanted to let the creature know that she was approaching.

"I'm not going to hurt you... I just want to help." She cooed softly, watching the large ears twitch slightly at the sounds. The shallow way that it's chest rose with each breath meant that she would have to move quickly. She whistled two short bursts before kneeling beside the creature, hand outstretched just enough to let it sniff her fingers.

Slowly she brushed her fingers along it's jaw, the thick soft fur felt cold and matted since it was wet. As she kept her hand on the creature, her vision began narrowing and her breathing slowed to match the creature's. Distantly she felt her shoulder get nudged by a warm muzzle. Her mare huffed and settled down close by; allowing her to reach into the bag and take out bandages, thread and a needle.

Hardly thinking of it she dug out a shallow but small fire pit, and with practised motions built a fire. Firmly but gently she looked over the Three Tail's body, combing through the matted fur and tending to the numerous scratches.

A mixture of herbs and water was smeared on the larger cuts but what worried her was the embed arrow head that narrowly missed anything vital. It was still deep and it definitely would cause still more pain when removed. If it wasn't removed; it would cause pain with every step since it would grind against the hip.

Malisa took a deep breath as she dug out her knife, her hands shaking slightly. She didn't want to hurt it, if she could; she would have taken it home to be tended by her mother. That wasn't an option, though and she knew it. She looked up to the creature's eyes and somehow, she knew.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

It gave her permission and trusted her to help. There was no hesitancy or distrust in the pale blue eyes. Her hands stilled as she looked back to the wound. The shaft was broken but it was still attached to the arrow. She'd be able to slowly pull it out after she made a small incision to make sure the arrow didn't catch on anything.

One breath, a single cut.

Two breaths, a slow pull.

Three breaths, the arrow was out and thrown to the side.

Malisa pressed her palm to the would as she mixed and ground her herbs into a small bowl of water to make a paste on the awaiting bandage. She then took a bit more water and lightly moving her hand, she sluiced it across to wash away the blood and any dirt.

Her needle, already heated and threaded; awaited her. She didn't think, couldn't let her thoughts free as she picked it up and pierced the flesh of the Three tails and started stitching it up. Twelve stitches later and she was finally ready to place the bandage across. A long piece of linen served as a way to further cover the bandage.

Picking herself up from kneeling, she stumbled to the stream and washed her hands, face and anything else she could reach. She had only ever watched her mother tend to wounded creatures. She watched and listened carefully but she never actually handled it herself.

Closing her eyes she tried to breath slowly and deeply. Her heart fluttered with anxiety as her stomach did flips. She looked over to the Three Tail and smiled. It's breathing was definitely better but still.. She crawled over to her knife and went back to the stream.

Watching carefully, she waited. Tensed and poised to strike; she held herself still until, like a strike of lightning; she struck true. A leaping fish was speared on her knife, then another and then four more. She cleaned the scales off, prepared two fish for herself and placed a third one on a rock in front of the narrow muzzle of the Three Tail. The other three she salted and wrapped up for another meal. She also cleaned out her bowl and replaced fresh water in it and placed it next to the fish.

"You got to eat. You need to replenish your strength." She firmly told the creature. As she cooked her fish over the fire, she watched the Three Tail gingerly raise itself up and nip, in a foxy fashion at the fish. It ate about half the fish before lapping up some water and wearily laying back down. A nicker brought Malisa's attention to Evita and her dilemma. The mare had her gear still on her and was looking at Malisa with a forlorn look. "Oh Evi! I'm so sorry!" She exclaimed as she jumped up and went to unbuckle the gear, grabbing her oats and making her some warm mash as an apology. Evita shook her mane out and gave her a very amused nicker.

Malisa tried to hold in a yawn as her eyes blurred a little. I should make shelter for the night.. She blinked away the weariness as she coaxed her body into motion. Grabbing the large canvas, pins and rope, she set about making a tent to cover both herself and the Three Tail. Her dad's voice echoing in her head and she picked up five medium sticks to tie the shelter to.

"Now Mal, you have to make sure that not only is it sturdy to weather a storm but you have to make sure that you can easily hide it, if you ever need to." His voice had gruffly taught her while she made and remade a tent in his satisfaction. A low enough tent that could be covered with branches, dirt, whatever was nearby. The front held by a single stick and the rope lashing to not only the sticks but the nearby large rocks. This shelter wasn't to hide but she couldn't be careless. Specially in the Esterwoods.