"I was able to treat about twenty of the sickest kitlings and pregnant women." Dr. Waddel was washing his hands at the sink in the kitchen. He dried them and turned to Bashta and Cavel who stood silently watching him, waiting for his next words.
"I think we got here in time," he said.
Cavel's eyes closed as he slumped against Bashta. Holding his mate, Bashta said a quiet prayer of thanks to the Jaguar, for his wisdom and his kindness in guiding them to a cure in time. They had done all they could do, now they just had to let the antiserum work.
"How long until they are well?" Bashta asked.
"That will depend on each patient. The sickest should actually get better the fastest. Their bodies won't fight the antiserum so it will disperse through their bodies the fastest." Dr. Waddel pulled a chair out from the table and sat down, resting his elbows on the scarred surface. "That doesn't mean that they won't still need careful care. Their immune systems are weak--"
Cavel interrupted him in protest, "Our immune systems are very strong!"
"Normally yes, they are. These patients, however, have been ill for weeks. Their bodies were slowly shutting down and while we can halt the progress and spread of this disease they will have to recover their strength. That will take time, rest, and plenty of good food.
"I know your kind is hardy. If humans could get this plague it would spread like wildfire through the towns and cities until there was no one left. It is peculiar that it affects only your clan of Jaguars," The doctor spoke slowly, musing aloud as he considered the strange course of the disease. Bashta urged the doctor to take a cup of tea before he and Cavel sat down at the table with him. He wrapped his hands around the mug and focused on Cavel.
"We don't understand this plague at all, we were very lucky you found Bashta here and we were able to make a working antiserum in time."
Cavel looked over at Bashta, tightening the grip he had on his hand under the table. "Yes, we were. My clan has gained an invaluable treasure in my mate."
Dr. Waddel beamed at him. "In all that has been going on I didn't congratulate you," he said. "I know your father would be very happy you found your mate. He would be proud of the way you have led your clan as well."
Cavel bowed his head a little to the older man, a pleased smile on his face. "That means a lot to me. I know you and he were good friends when he led our clan."
Dr. Waddel laughed. "Since before that actually. Your father was one of the first Carthera to integrate into my school. He was always getting into trouble, starting fights and stuff."
Cavel's eyes widened. "He didn't!"
"Oh yes he did." The doctor smirked, sitting back in his chair. "One day he was in the bathroom trying to reach a large splinter of wood in his back after a tussle in the bleachers with the school phobics. I was in there washing my hands and offered to help. I pulled it out and helped him clean up. It became a habit; he got into fights when he refused to back down or avoid the phobics and I took care of the damage before his mother saw him."
"Is that why you went into medicine and specialized in treating Carthera?" Bashta asked. He was curious about the doctor, his medicine, and machines that worked so much better than Bashta's own knowledge of herbal medicine.
"Yes. I was fascinated by your culture and the way you guys heal. The school nurse wouldn't even touch the non-human students. My dad was a doctor; I think I always wanted to be one. He used to sometimes secretly treat the Carthera who came to him that couldn't be healed by their own medics. He always told me that pain hurts everyone the same. I wanted to help like he did, but openly."
"Those are the attitudes that helped the integration continue. But I bet my dad gave you more than enough opportunities to fix him up after fights before he left high school to get a good idea of our physiology," Cavel joked, making the doctor smile.
"That he did, that he did."
"Is it still like that?" Bashta asked. His eyes were wide and he was looking between Cavel and Dr. Waddel.
"Not really," Cavel assured him. "There will always be some people who are bigots, who think they are better than the Carthera because we are different. Carthera have been integrated into the human population for about fifty years now. Some things are still rocky but for the most part the humans treat the clans pretty much equal."
Dr. Waddel nodded. "The hospitals and medical profession in general are both a little behind still. Most doctors who treat Carthera patients aren't officially trained. It's more an... apprenticeship. Your bodies are similar enough to human and yet with enough animal traits that most doctors the clans will trust become a cross between a traditional doctor and, well..." he ducked his head a little, "a vet."
Cavel's eyes narrowed.
"I'm not saying you guys are animals. But your clan traits are very animal like. For instance, the bones of the Falcon clans are lighter and thinner than a human's which make treating breaks trickier. Some of the snake clans have fangs with actual poison sacks which produce venom. Imagine one of those guys with a toothache."
Bashta's eyes were wide. Cavel looked intrigued. "I didn't know that."
"I treat more than the Jaguar clan. Sometimes traveling clan members come through and need help. I've seen a lot in my days as a doctor."
"Have you ever seen anything like this plague before?" Bashta asked.
"No, fortunately I haven't." The doctor sighed, "Though, because no one had seen it before I was useless. I couldn't do anything to help the kitlings until you came." Dr. Waddel looked at Bashta's obviously healthy body then looked at his eyes, seeing more sorrow and experience than the youthful countenance suggested. "Your entire clan died from this?"
Bashta face took on a haunted look, and he slowly nodded. "They did."
"Were the symptoms the same?"
Bashta rubbed his hands together nervously, his claws peeking out of his fingertips. "I think so. I was young and wasn't really paying attention. I remember Pamca and Lesner, my two best friends, were sick a few days before my mother took me to the Temple. Their mother kept bathing them in the river and they sounded funny when they breathed; like they had water in their chests, just like the kitlings in there." Bashta looked down the hall toward the main room.
"But we didn't see the lesions until we got back. My father knew we would be returning from the Temple. As he carved the plague warnings around the village he made sure that he was visible from a good distance away on that path. He ordered us to leave them and my mother took me in her arms to keep me from going to him. I fought her to get to my litter mates and friends who had already died from this horrible curse but it wouldn't have done any good. My father died before our eyes and he was the last of our clan left alive."
"What happened to your mother?"
