With the Lion Alpha grudgingly subdued and the Wolf Alpha strategically aligned, Elara decided it was time to establish a true neutral ground. Her cave was fine for sleeping, but it was too small and isolated for her ambitious plans.
Her chosen site for the Central Infirmary was a natural alcove on the far side of the sacred spring, directly opposite Kaelen's lair. It was open, defensible, and crucially, allowed for easy access for all three tribes without infringing on any single territory.
"I need flat stones for a sterile surface, sturdy branches for supports, and the thickest hides you possess for walls and roofing," Elara instructed a team of sullen Lionesses. Kaelen had, surprisingly, sent his best workers, his pride demanding that his tribe build the best infirmary for his prized healer.
The Lionesses worked with impressive speed, grunting with effort as they hauled massive stones and stretched hides. Elara, meanwhile, meticulously cleaned the alcove, using boiling water and ash to sanitize every surface, muttering to herself about pathogenic bacteria.
"This is not a den, this is a clean zone," she declared, laying out her meager collection of herbs, bone pins, and sutures. "No raw meat near patients. No unnecessary roaring. And absolutely no public urination."
Just as the infirmary was taking shape, the air above the oasis began to hum. A powerful downdraft of wind swept through the den, scattering dust and loose hide.
Alpha Zev, the Storm Griffin, descended like an enraged thunderbolt.
He landed in a flurry of feathers and dust, his stormy blue eyes blazing. He was magnificent, volatile, and clearly furious. He looked at the almost-finished infirmary, then at the working Lionesses, then at Elara, who was meticulously arranging her leaf paste.
"What is this ground-nest you are building, Elara Vance?" Zev demanded, his voice resonating with indignation. He gestured with a dismissive sweep of his hand at the construction. "This is not worthy of the Weaver! You should be on the highest peak, where the air is pure and the view is clear! Not in this dusty, earth-bound hovel!"
"This is an infirmary, Alpha Zev," Elara replied, pinching the bridge of her nose. "It's where I keep the sick from getting sicker. It's not a nest. It's a medical facility. And it requires solid ground, not a precarious cliff edge."
"But the Lion's scent clings to this dust!" Zev protested, his feathers bristling. "And the Wolf watches from his shadows! You will be constantly at risk of their heavy hands and low-cunning! My aerie is secure! My warriors are faster! You should be above!"
He took a step toward her, radiating a fierce, protective urgency. "Come, Elara. We will build you a platform in the clouds. A true nest for the Weaver. You belong with the sky, not with the soil."
Elara took a deep breath. She knew Zev's possessiveness stemmed from a genuine belief that he offered the best protection, a protection of speed and height that negated the grounded threats. But it was also incredibly impractical.
"Alpha Zev," she said, her voice firm. "Rule #9: My patients cannot fly. Torvin is healing, but he cannot scale a cliff. Rhen, your own warrior, cannot fly for six suns. They need me here, where gravity is a reliable constant, not a thrilling challenge."
Zev scowled, his logic thwarted by the inescapable truth of her words. He couldn't argue against the needs of his own injured warrior.
The Aerial Invasion
Suddenly, Zev's eyes narrowed, his attention shifting. He let out a sharp, piercing cry, a sound of alarm and fury.
"Lion! You send your warriors to watch my healer! You violate the truce!"
Elara looked up. Alpha Kaelen, magnificent and radiating territorial ownership, was standing on a high outcrop near his lair, watching the infirmary construction with a proprietary scowl. Three of his Lioness warriors were conspicuously patrolling the perimeter, keeping a vigilant eye on Elara's interactions with Zev.
"I sent them to guard my healer, Zev!" Kaelen roared, his voice booming across the oasis. "To ensure the Sky-Rider does not attempt to steal my prize!"
"She is not your prize, Lion!" Zev shrieked, his voice reaching a fever pitch. He transformed into his full Griffin form, a magnificent, bronze-feathered beast, and launched himself into the sky with a furious beat of his wings. He circled Kaelen's lair once, then swooped down, deliberately pulling a cluster of decorative feathers from the roof of Kaelen's lair with a savage rip of his talons.
THUMP! CRASH!
The feathers landed at Kaelen's feet, a clear insult.
Kaelen roared, his fury erupting. He leaped from his perch, shifting into his massive Lion form, his golden fur bristling. The entire oasis devolved into pandemonium. Lionesses scattered. Warriors snarled.
Oh, for the love of all that is sterile, Elara muttered, watching the two Alphas engage in a chaotic, mid-air and ground-based skirmish. Zev was swooping and dive-bombing, creating miniature dust devils, while Kaelen was roaring and leaping, trying to bat Zev out of the sky like a giant, angry housecat.
Suddenly, a voice, calm and cutting, sliced through the chaos.
"Such unnecessary display. Both of you are wasting precious resources and attracting the Feral Tide."
Alpha Roric, the Shadow Wolf, materialized from the shadows near Elara. He was carrying a small, intricately carved wooden box.
"The infirmary is not a battleground," Roric stated, his silver eyes cold and analytical, ignoring the raging Alphas. "It is a place of healing. A place of quiet. Their noise impedes your work, Elara Vance."
He opened the wooden box. Inside were small, tightly rolled pieces of dried, aromatic leaves. "These are sound-dampeners. My tribe uses them to mask our movements. They will not silence the Lions entirely, but they will muffle the noise of a full-scale brawl."
Elara stared at the sound-dampeners, then at the two magnificent, furious Alphas currently engaged in a highly inefficient, spectacular display of territorial aggression.
"You want me to plug their ears, Alpha Roric?" she asked, a hysterical giggle threatening to escape.
"No. You will place them strategically around the perimeter of the infirmary," Roric clarified, handing her the box. "The noise will be contained. Their displays will remain, but the impact on your work will be lessened. It is a tactical compromise."
Elara took the box. It was a perfect, elegant solution to a very primal problem.
"Alpha Roric," she said, a new spark of respect in her eyes. "You are officially my favorite for this five-minute segment. You understand the necessity of a quiet workspace."
Roric's lips curled into a rare, genuine smile—a flash of pure, wolfish cunning. "The Wolf always finds a way to control the environment. Now, deploy your dampeners, Elara Vance. And let the Lions and Griffins exhaust themselves."
Elara, armed with her sound-dampeners, began strategically placing them around the infirmary, creating a zone of relative calm amidst the aerial dogfight and ground-based roaring match.
I am now running a triage center, a diplomatic mission, and a wild animal preserve, she thought, wiping dust from her face. And I wouldn't have it any other way. Mostly.