CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE.

(MELIORA'S POV)

"They were attacked by an unknown pack of wolves while out on a hunting expedition," Elder Emma explained in a grim tone as she busied herself grinding herbs into a fine paste. 

My stomach dropped at her words. An attack? From outsider wolves against our own?

"We've already lost one of our warriors in the ambush," she continued heavily. "These five barely managed to make it back to us alive, as you can see."

I felt sick as I surveyed the grievously wounded men once more. "Oh God..." I breathed, a lump forming in my throat. One of them didn't even survive?

Forcing myself to swallow hard, I tried to concentrate on being useful. "What do you need me to do? How can I assist with treating their injuries?"

"Be quick but gentle when cleaning the cuts," Elder Morris instructed briskly, gesturing to the supply of clean cloths and bowls of salted water. "Then apply this poultice liberally over each wound."

I nodded, my hands trembling slightly as I knelt beside the nearest pallet and the man laid out atop it. 

Gingerly, I began dabbing at the deep slashes scoring his chest and arms, trying not to aggravate the injuries further.

Cries of pain soon filled the room as the stinging herbal concoction made contact with raw, open flesh. I flinched at each agonized groan, my heart clenching in sympathy.

When I finally turned to tend to Brian - poor Martha's husband - I felt tears pricking the corners of my eyes as I studied his mangled form. This strong, vital man appeared barely recognizable beneath the gruesome lacerations.

"I'm so sorry we have to put you through further torment," I murmured, pressing the poultice against a particularly nasty wound on his shoulder. 

"But it's the only way to purge whatever toxins those vicious animals used on their claws and fangs."

Brian's only response was a guttural grunt of acknowledgment as he writhed, his brow beaded with sweat from the sheer effort of remaining conscious through such agony.

From outside the thick wooden door, a cacophony of raised voices began growing in volume - the anguished cries and shouts of others who must have arrived seeking answers about their injured loved ones' fates.  Suddenly, Martha's frantic tone rang out loud and clear.

"Liora? Liora, are you inside there? Please...how is Brian doing?" she wailed frantically through the barrier. "Someone tell me he's alright!"

My chest clenched painfully at the naked fear and despair saturating her words. I started to rise, to somehow attempt to reassure her, when Elder Morris shook her head and called out in a firm tone.

"Hold on, all of you! Stand back from that door and remain patient. We cannot have any distractions or disturbances interrupting the critical work at hand here!"

The elder turned back to me, her expression grave but laced with regret. "They were likely attacked with poisoned blades and toxins of some kind," she elaborated softly. "Which means healing will not come easy or swiftly for these poor souls."

I felt my stomach roil as the implication sank in. Poisoned weapons? What kind of depraved, dishonorable pack could resort to such vile tactics? Against their own kin, no less?

From outside, Martha's cries for reassurance continued to echo, joined by other frantic voices demanding updates on their injured family members. One of the assistants leveled me with a pointed look.

"Perhaps you should consider making an attempt to calm that rabble before their hysterics distract from the men's ability to properly heal and recover their strength," she suggested in a dry tone.

She was right. If Martha's wails and anxiety grew more amplified, it would only serve to further torment poor Brian during his agonizing recuperation. He needed calm and rest right now above all else - as did the others.

Nodding resolutely, I rose and made my way to the exit. Elder Morris was already standing in the opened doorway, her imposing form drawing silence from the gathered throngs as all eyes turned towards her.

"Your menfolk suffered extensive injuries from a brutal, unprovoked assault at the hands of some barbarous outsider wolves," 

she announced in a low but authoritative rumble that carried to every corner. "Already one of our bravest has been lost to these monsters' savagery."

A collective gasp and murmurings of horror rippled through the crowd at her words. Martha's tear-streaked face was one of the most haunted amidst the assembled.

"However," Morris continued firmly, "your remaining warriors cling to life, and are even now receiving the treatment and healing remedies they require to prevail against their assailants' cowardly poisoning."

She leveled the crowd with a quelling stare. "But to do so, they must be permitted full rest and recovery without disruptive interruptions or disturbances. You may return on the morrow to see your loved ones and bring them succor, but for now - go home and say prayers for their deliverance."

A chorus of disappointed murmurs rose up, though the people appeared to reluctantly accept the decree. Slowly, the clusters of anxious families began drifting off into the twilight, casting mournful looks over their shoulders.

As Martha turned to leave as well, she caught my eye and I shook my head in silent apology. Her expression crumpled with renewed distress, but she gave a tiny nod of acknowledgment before allowing herself to be led away.

The second the crowd had dispersed, I turned to Elder Morris. "Martha's condition..." I began hoarsely. "In light of everything..."

She held up a hand, her countenance softening slightly. "Of course, none of us wished to cause her any undue turmoil in her fragile state. Once both you and she have had a chance to refresh yourselves and break bread, I will make allowances for you to sit with Brian privately for a time before retiring for the evening."

Relief washed over me at her compassion. "Thank you," I replied feelingly. "She will surely need as much comfort and reassurance as we can provide in the coming days."

Morris nodded once, her features hardened once more into their customary stern cast.  

"Indeed. For all our sakes, let us pray these brave warriors can fight off these cowardly insurgents' treacherous poisons and heal fully in body, mind and spirit."

I swallowed hard and made a silent vow to do whatever was required to help achieve that aim for them. Martha and Brian - indeed, the entire pack - had endured far more than their fair share of hardships and cruel blows from Fate. 

It was past time for the tides to finally turn in their favor once and for all.