(no subject)

[holdmyflower]

[Well, Mal. Today your...cousin? Nephew? The sheepdog you are legally the emergency contact for, suplexed your wife off a set of baseball stadium lights.

Given she's a werewolf, she's alive, but severely unconscious, and they basically brought her back to their house to set down because they don't have any vets on staff and he knows a lot about werewolves, right?

It's gonna be a few hours before she starts to wake up. Close to evening, after much of the...shenanigans have already occurred. He'll know it's about time before she'll actually revert back to a person wherever she's been set down, shortly before she starts to wake up. She probably has the headache of the century.

What do you wish to do?]

Comments

[adjudicated]

Well I can certainly make you something for that.

[She gets a proper forehead kiss for that, if she's leaning in so close. He was worried, that much is evident.]

[holdmyflower]

...On a scale of 1 to 10, how bad is this gonna taste?

[She'll drink it no matter what, but...well, some of Mal's concoctions she's gotta steel herself for.]

[adjudicated]

Probably at least a 6. At least there's less of a chance of side-effects this time? I think. I'll be honest, shapeshifter physiology is kind of a black box in a lot of ways.

[holdmyflower]

Yeah, well...most people don't care if they end up accidentally killing us, and most of the packs are too superstitious to want to look more into it. Heaven forbid the root of our power is something other than some grand Wolf spirit...

[Sighhhh.]

...I'll take a six.