The squirrel is a more complicated job than the goose was; he wasn't quite fast enough getting out of the way of an oncoming bike, and some of the vertebrae in his tail have been shattered by the tires. Putting the bones back together is intricate work: a complex, fragile puzzle. It takes the better part of an hour for her to nudge the bone shards back into their proper place and knit them together. Both of the dogs are dozing by the time she heals the skin abrasions and encourages the fur in the bald spot to regrow a little (she doesn't need it to fill in completely, she's just trying to make sure he can grow fur and won't have a bald spot forever).
Finally a little over an hour after she started, she blinks her eyes open and looks down at the squirrel, curled trustingly in her hands. How are you feeling? she asks, tickling his belly gently.
Hungry, the squirrel replies, blinking up at her.
Cracking a smile, Daine digs out a few shelled peanuts and offers them to the squirrel. He takes one between his forepaws and starts to nibble, giving his tail an experimental flap.
Daine sits up straighter, wincing a little as her neck objects to the sudden movement. Odd's bobs - how long as she been hunched over the creature? Rubbing the back of her neck with one hand, she glances upward, trying to judge how much the sun has moved since she started. It's a little hard to tell under all this tree cover, and she ends up looking to Peeta, instead. The dogs are asleep, but at least he's still awake. Hopefully he hasn't been bored witless. "Sorry," she says sheepishly. "I wasn't -- it hasn't been hours, has it?"
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Finally a little over an hour after she started, she blinks her eyes open and looks down at the squirrel, curled trustingly in her hands. How are you feeling? she asks, tickling his belly gently.
Hungry, the squirrel replies, blinking up at her.
Cracking a smile, Daine digs out a few shelled peanuts and offers them to the squirrel. He takes one between his forepaws and starts to nibble, giving his tail an experimental flap.
Daine sits up straighter, wincing a little as her neck objects to the sudden movement. Odd's bobs - how long as she been hunched over the creature? Rubbing the back of her neck with one hand, she glances upward, trying to judge how much the sun has moved since she started. It's a little hard to tell under all this tree cover, and she ends up looking to Peeta, instead. The dogs are asleep, but at least he's still awake. Hopefully he hasn't been bored witless. "Sorry," she says sheepishly. "I wasn't -- it hasn't been hours, has it?"