To Patch up Patch PV Griffith Finished

Rabbits were... loud. They gave off a very distinctive scream that sounded like a little kid dying. Like a shriek. It was that sound that had summoned the Welshman. Or rather, it was the fact that the occasional scream was getting slowly closer. A predator would drag the rabbit out to the woods, not bring it in to the school. And a large pet owl bringing home a present wouldn't exactly walk with it. Which left only a few other possibilities, the most logical of which made him groan.

He laid aside his rake, and left the enclosure, closing it behind him as he walked quickly to the door, taking long strides as he threw open the heavy stone door to see the Bane kid with a bleeding rabbit. Wonderful, that was just wonderful. Why did little kids with hearts the size of trucks feel the need to help every living thing? It was the food chain, it's death would just feed some predator. It's not like it's death was going to be in vain. The boy in the wheelchair hadn't seen him yet, anyway. It was probably going to be fine if he just retreated and pretended he hadn't heard anything.

But then again, that did make him just a little bit of a hypocrite. After all, he helped any living creature that wandered his way, he always had. From baby birds to, admittedly, rabbits. But he wasn't dumb, and he had a horrible feeling that the boy in the wheelchair thought that his presence was comforting to the rabbit. His brows lowered as he set his jaw, got ready for the reaction he was afraid he was going to receive, and moved forward into the cold. He didn't say much to the boy, just a gruff

"Hello there. I assume you want some help with that."

And then he turned the wheelchair around, and moved towards the stables. It took only slightly more than a minute to reach the destination, the mudporch/reception room with his desk.

"Alright, story time. What happened."

He reached out his hand for the rabbit, not wanting to snatch something that the boy was clearly set on protecting. He knew how it felt when someone did that. It left a horrible pit in your heart. He wasn't going to take this out of the boy's hands if the boy didn't want him to.

Surprisingly, he was ready to hand the animal over. Not to seem cruel, but... The loud screaming wasn't enjoyable. As soon as the professor had said something, he had turned to him. He still very much protected the panicked animal, but he would hand it over once the professor gave him the queue. 

"That would be preferable, yes. Thank you."

He was glad the professor didn't question him, or turn him away, or any number of things he could have done. He smiled just a little.

"Found 'em near the edge of the woods, sitting in a patch of it's own blood. Couldn't have been there long. Both blood and the wound were fresh. None of it dried down yet. Three gashes down it's right side, right on the ribs, looked to be something with some sharp claws attacked it. Sewed them up, disinfected needle and silk thread. Didn't disinfect the wound before hand. I was more concerned with keeping it from bleeding out. Bandaged it right after." 

Rowan passed the creature to him while he was talking, careful to lay it on the uninjured side. It didn't help, the rabbit still squirmed like all hell. But he knew it was most likely more from panic than pain. Or at least he hoped. 

"I know you probably don't want me hanging around, but I would like to see what happens to it, if you'll allow it." 

Rowan winced slightly at how small he sounded. He rolled ever so slightly back, giving the professor space. He was fully prepared to be dismissed, and would leave if asked to, even if he didn't like it. 

He had sewn it up? First? Just the skin, of course. Griffith internally grimaced. Nice stitches, anyway. They were surprisingly neat for a 12 year old, especially considering how much the rabbit would have been thrashing. That was alright, no one had taught the little boy any differently. The professor still wanted to be a little grumpy about the scenario, but indulging his inner scrooge could wait until after the rabbit and the boy were calm and healthy.

Magic wasn't something the professor often liked to use. He preferred hands on, one of the reasons being he did not agree with his wand in the slightest. But there were occasions where magic was extremely useful. Non magical cuts were one of them. He placed the bunny on the table, whipping a cloth out from his cavernous pocket to throw over the rabbits head. Sure, it was scary. But in the long run it was a lot more calming than letting the rabbit see the man waving about a wand.

Because wave about a wand was the next step, one hand holding the little thing in place while the other caused the wound to start to magically seal, mend, stop the bleeding. It didn't restore the copious amounts of lost blood, but maybe it didn't have to. The bunny could, more likely than not, pull through fine. Taking the bunny off the table, he stuffed it in his pocket, which didn't seem to bulge any more now that there was a rabbit inside, and then he focused all his attention on the boy in the wheelchair. He hadn't said anything, or even acknowledged what the boy had said up until now, but he had at least been paying attention.

"Do you know why the bunny was by the edge of the woods?"

He had a feeling. He had known, at least a little bit, for a while now. But he wanted to make sure.

“You’re the professor on the subject. I would be wasting both our time on my guesses, so why don’t you just tell me? I’d probably just say things you already know.”

The professor had just. Put it in his pocket. Now that he thought about it, they were probably enchanted in some way. Or maybe they were just that big. 

“And if this is a ‘because there’s big scary predators in the woods’ I already know that much. Or even a ‘you should have left the bunny there to nature’ because you’re clearly unhappy with me, I already know that too.”

He tried to be as respectful as possible, but it was clear, at least to Rowan, that the professor pretty much hated him by now. Or at least disliked him heavily. 

“My observations probably won’t be any help to you either because you’re out here more often than me.”

Condescending as ever Rowan, great job. Even in front of a professor, you manage to work in your self hate. 

His guesses were pretty much along the lines of ‘because the creatures have become more audacious and have moved closer to the castle’ or ‘a predator dropped it there when it was flying overhead’ or even maybe, ‘it’s pretty much spring by now’. Wow. All things the professor would already know, and he didn’t want to make a fool of himself acting like he knew something.

He chalked this up to the boy being upset about the rabbit, but that wasn't what he had been getting at. It didn't matter, he would just speak his mind and hope that he wasn't making a fool of himself. He would return the rabbit to the wild soon, but it didn't need more humans to make it's heart race more.

"If rabbits leave the forest, it's easier for raptors to find them. Raptors like the one that hurt this little bunny. I've heard rumors about some of the students feeding the animals."

The Welshman raised an eyebrow at the boy, clearly implying his suspicion that the wheelchair-bound gryffindor had his fair share of creature feedings.

"Listen, if you see anyone doing this, please tell them to stop. It makes the creatures more trusting, it tames them. Most of the sweet tamed bunnies that come to nibble out of your hand are easy prey. This has practically no exception. Trusting something for a source of food makes them slow, makes them come out of hiding. They don't run away from little shadows anymore. As adorable as it is, and as tempting as it is to make a friend like that, you just... you can't.

And second opinions are a thing, Mr. Bane. A useful thing, that people use. So curb your sarcasm.

He walked over to the chair by his desk, and sat down heavily. What the hell was he supposed to do about a sarcastic little boy with a heart that was quite obviously large enough to fill the mouth of a dragon? Maybe give him something to do, in all honesty. Give him something to make him feel like he's helping a creature. People liked to help the things they loved, they always did.

"Have anywhere pressing to be, or can you make yourself useful."

Rowan winced slightly at the very obvious call out on two fronts. He really wasn’t trying to make this a back and forth. 

“Of course. Sorry about the sarcasm, just didn’t want to run your ear off on trivial facts. I can do work though, yeah. As long as it doesn’t involve climbing, that is.”

He needed to really keep himself in better check. So when the professor asked for help, he was happy to do anything he needed an extra pair of hands for. He smiled a little at his attempt at a joke at the end there. It wasn’t his best but hopefully it would diffuse some of the tension in the stagnant air. 

Rowan took the necklace he had on off, before he rolled over to the professor’s desk. He didn’t have to stash multitudes of jewellery this time, thankfully. His hair had to be tied back a little this time though, as he had allowed it to get a little long on his father’s wishes. His slightly pointed ears said hello as he did this, a little pink on the tops, maybe from sunburn.  

He had actually expected to be dismissed as soon as the rabbit was out of his hands. So it was a bit of a surprise that he had made it this far. 

Griffith reached into his pocket again. Why was he doing this again? Because the kid in front of him was not exactly the coldest kernel in the kettle, and he needed to have something to do, something that would help, something that the wheelchair bound boy could look at, and know that he helped. Because honestly, if the professor was right and Mr. Bane had been feeding the rabbits, then he was partially responsible for this one's pain. And that kind of thing had a way of weighing on children's consciousnesses.

He was going to help the students who came to him. He had already decided. When the time came, he would leave them and run, they might die, but it wouldn't matter, in the long run. Or at least that was what he tried to convince himself every night. He cared too much, and he knew it. Why was being mean to the children so much harder than being unpleasant to the professors?

Reaching into his pocket, Griffith pulled out a tiny monkey, clinging to his finger. A few seconds of digging in the other pocket, and he procured a bottle with a tiny nub on the tip. Holding out his finger, monkey still attached, and the bottle of milk to the boy, he gave the instructions.

"Monkey's got a pretty big scab on it's back, don't pick at it, don't worry about it. It fell out of a tree. Feed it until it goes to sleep, and then put it in the little heated basket on my desk. Close the basket, and latch it. If the monkey doesn't go to sleep, but gets drowzy and stops eating, same deal with the basket. When you're done, you can show yourself out. Close the door behind you."

Had the monkey fallen out of a tree? No, it had not. Was that any of the Gryffindor's concern? Also no, it was not. The monkey, or rather, the marmoset, needed attention regardless, and he had other work to attend to. His work came and went. One moment he was bored with nothing to do and the other he had far too much to do and needed help. This was one of the moments he needed help, and luckily, the boy helping him was also going to be helping the boy.

Griffith headed for the door that led into the main body of the stables, pausing only to say

"I've got other business to attend to. Push the button by this door if you really need me, otherwise stay in the office. Until you're ready to leave."

And with that, the professor closed the door behind him, leaving Rowan alone with the baby monkey, the monkey's bottle, and his thoughts.

"It fell out of a tree.. The most stereotypical injury. Sure. Er- sorry. Curb the sarcasm, right." 

With the size of that scab, it looked like it had been clawed at by something. Though it wouldn't have survived that kind of injury. More likely an intense rug burn or a similar cause. Either way, if the tiny creature had fallen out of a tree, it would have bounced like a bouncy ball, or splatted on impact.

Rowan knew better than to attempt at a goodbye by now. The professor would neither appreciate it, nor acknowledge it. Sometimes he contemplated whether it was worth it to try to be himself around the adult male. Most of the times, the answer came out to be a no, unless it was at a ROAM meeting, where the cynical energy was dispersed across a multitude of people, and not just honed in on him.

He pondered the two topics as he took the small animal from the professor's hands, letting it hold onto his thumb as he cradled the rest of it in the palm of his hand. This warmth, combined with the milk, would most likely put it to sleep within a few minutes. However for now, it was adorable, studying him with his large eyes. 

Now that his hair was dyed, he didn't stick out as painfully from the horde of students. No jewelry to distinguish him either, the animal didn't have anything to grab at. All he had were plain, black gauges to keep the holes in his ears open. Not like it mattered anyways. Stretched lobes didn't go away. What mattered more was that there was no earrings for the creature to grab at.

Er- at least he thought that. 

As it decided to climb up his robes, he was confused. Until it went to grab at his ear. And successfully got purchase. Rowan took the creature in one hand quickly, attempting to pull it off before it could do any damage. The only thing that did was make it worse, really. Now there were three injured creatures passing through the mudroom in one day. Lovely.

As blood got on the white collar of his shirt, as well as down the side of his neck, and all over the shiny bit of silver the small creature had now, Rowan swore both loudly and profusely. He thought he had been thorough when he had taken off everything before he had come outside, but apparently not. And now his forgetful nature was biting him in the arse.

He didn't want to take a visit to the hospital wing, but apparently that was happening today. 

Rowan plucked the bit of metal from the monkey's hands and instead replaced it's grip once again on his finger. He placed the bottle in it's mouth and prayed to all of his gods he had the willpower to both not scream and not chuck the creature across the room. The next things he hoped were happening is that the animal was falling asleep and that the professor had not heard his yelling, so he didn't get an opportunity to tell him a big I told you so. 

There was not blood all over the other creature’s front, but Rowan didn’t care. He set it in the basket and closed it, whether it liked it or not, before he finally screamed in both frustration and pain. With that out of his system, he soon left in pursuit of the hospital wing. 

Rowan has left the thread with a bleeding ear. The monkey is now covered partially in blood, which may concern the professor, however to my knowledge, this thread is complete.