C.B.’s MuseLetter

C.B.’s MuseLetter

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C.B.’s MuseLetter
C.B.’s MuseLetter
"The Healer"

"The Healer"

the 3rd installment of The Pond by the Sea

C.B. Souther's avatar
C.B. Souther
Jan 30, 2025
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C.B.’s MuseLetter
C.B.’s MuseLetter
"The Healer"
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brown rabbit
Photo by Tolga Ahmetler on Unsplash

Shadows lengthened across the clearing, accompanied by creeping tendrils of cold. Blue huddled deeper into the hollow. Alone with her thoughts she tried to occupy her mind by taking in the surroundings. She was absorbed in the task of identifying nearby plants when she felt the prickle of being watched. It was a good thing she turned her head slowly, otherwise her beak would have collided with the twitching pink nose of an elderly rabbit. 

“You’re Blue.” A statement, not a question. “I am the healer. Let me see your wing.” 

Blue hadn’t moved her injured wing since settling in the hollow and gave pause to the thought of doing so now. 

“Go on, now. I can’t help unless you let me.” 

Blue squeezed her eyes shut and slowly extended the injured wing. A lightning-shaped pain zig-zagged upwards from tip to shoulder. A hissing sound escaped her beak. 

“Hurts,” said the rabbit, “As well it should. Don’t know if it’s broken, but that doesn’t matter much, if you can’t move it, you can’t fly.” 

“I know,” Blue replied softly, “is there anything you can do?” 

“Always something can be done,”said the healer, “not sure you’ll like it. Healing is a messy business.” The healer gently moved the wing around, testing its range of motion. Blue’s breath was ragged but she kept still and awaited the end of the examination. 

“It’ll have to be bound. Properly, you understand? If it isn’t, it could heal all wrong and your wing will be useless.” 

“Can you do that for me?”she asked. 

“‘Course I can,” the healer sniffed, “question is: what is to be done with you once I do? You can’t stay here in this clearing. Too many hungry creatures about who’d be happy to dine on duck tonight.” Blue shuddered. “Gotta move you to my burrow. Can you walk?” 

“Yes.” 

“Follow me,” and with that, the healer turned a bushy white tail and slowly, deliberately hopped away. Blue’s entire body ached, but she rose and followed the healer home. 

Through the woods, now dark, they made their way little by little. Blue wondered where Squirrel had gone, dismissed the thought. He had done what he said he would, and for that she was grateful. Small yellow eyes peered at them from a hollow log, and she thought of how strange a pair they must seem, an elderly rabbit and a duck making slow progress along the forest floor. Layers of decaying leaves gave way wetly underfoot, with prickly dried pine needles poking up through the loam here and there, each making Blue quack in surprise. 

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