The pneumonia passed, the strangling infection dying. Haytham was not upset at putting the laudanum bottle away; he'd seen too many good men and women addicted to the influence with the foolhardy idea that it would bring sweetness to their lives. Ratonhnhaké:ton could sit up in bed now without launching into a fit of shaking coughs. Sometimes, he'd sit in the cushioned armchair that Haytham had brought from one of his finer estates, a tartan over his lap, book in hands.

It shouldn't have surprised Haytham that Ratonhnhaké:ton was an avid reader, but it had. The young man devoured as many texts as he could, bedridden as he was for the first week and a half. Finance accounts, legislation, tenancy contracts, and business correspondence were as natural to Ratonhnhaké:ton as his personal pleasures found in Shakespeare, John Gay, Voltaire, and an assortment of others. There was a theme somewhere - Haytham suspected it had to do with satire and the downfall of aristocracy - and he wasn't sure whether to be concerned or to find more books. Perhaps both.

So when Ratonhnhaké:ton couldn't focus on his book, restlessly shifting about in his seat, Haytham knew it was time to teach him how to heal. Such a strong desire to be outside couldn't easily be crushed. It was only natural for Ratonhnhaké:ton to want to be active once more.

"Put your book away, please," Haytham said.

Shuffling over to the bookshelf, Ratonhnhaké:ton did as he was asked and tilted his head questioningly at his father. Haytham scooped up a hammer, seemed to measure it against his arm and then offered it to Ratonhnhaké:ton.

"Break my wrist."

"Pardon?" Ratonhnhaké:ton was taken aback, shocked. "I will not."

"You will. I need a proper broken wrist to show you what to do."

"But Rake'níha-"

Haytham raised a hand to silence Ratonhnhaké:ton. "Break it. I swear it will be as good as it was before. Maybe even better. Make it a clean break."

There were a few moments of contemplation before Ratonhnhaké:ton lifted the hammer and brought it down. But at the last moment, he stopped it, glancing it sideways. This was ridiculous - he wasn't going to hurt his father while they were on neutral ground.

"Ratonhnhaké:ton, if you break it, you'll be able to go home. Your pack has been lurking at the edge of my territory for days now," sighed Haytham.

That was the only incentive Ratonhnhaké:ton needed. Haytham couldn't hold back a cry of pain as his wrist broke. Cradling it gently, he held it out for Ratonhnhaké:ton to see. His pup looked fascinated and upset at the same time.

"I'm going to concentrate very carefully on mending the bones - how they shift and connect to each other," explained Haytham. "Using the same power that occurs during a controlled shift, I will funnel it into a feeling of healing - fusion of bone and tissue, something goodhealingbonesoftblue."

The last words, garbled and describing things that had to be experienced rather than felt, made Ratonhnhaké:ton lift his chin to point accusingly. Haytham shrugged. The wolf language didn't always translate properly.

"Take my good hand and you'll feel it pulse under my skin."

He closed his eyes, focusing not on the sensation of his pup's hand in his (although he did take a moment to enjoy it) but on the pain that was radiating through his left wrist. First, he cooled it, sighing in relief, and Ratonhnhaké:ton shivered. Then Haytham slowly allowed the bones to grasp at each other, picturing a working wrist and letting his body intuitively know which bone went where. It was a good thing that ribs were easier to heal than a wrist - it was a good first healing project. After a few moments, Haytham slowly rolled his wrist around, letting the bones settle and muscle cover the edges once more.

When Haytham looked at Ratonhnhaké:ton, exhaling, his pup took it as a sign that he could examine the wrist, prodding and poking until he was satisfied.

"Why didn't you tell me about this earlier?" he asked accusingly.

"You were sick, and we cannot heal sicknesses as easily, strange as that sounds. Now you try."

Nodding, Ratonhnhaké:ton followed his actions and seemed to be doing well until it came to the fusing of bone. His energy was all wrong - it was still shift energy not healing. Haytham opened his mouth to gently correct Ratonhnhaké:ton when his son tugged his hand away, eyes snapping open, ears flattened and tail between his legs.

"Ah," said Haytham, realising exactly what was wrong with flattened ears and a tail.

They weren't healed bones. And now, due to the embarrassed fluster Ratonhnhaké:ton had put himself in (he had turned away and was valiantly not making eye contact with Haytham - that was flustered in Ratonhnhaké:ton's body language), he couldn't get himself under enough control to make them disappear.

"I did exactly the same thing on my first attempts as well," comforted Haytham.

Ears flicked up and tail swayed hesitantly. Brief eye contact. Head still bowed. Afraid of an upset Alpha.

Afraid.

"Ratonhnhaké:ton, I am not angry," said Rake'níha, putting his hand on his pup's shoulder.

No reply. A surge of energy. Haytham's eyes widened - he was trying again, much too fast, skin crackling, triggering his own wolf to stretch and push its way up. He could feel a shift, the energy bubbling but just before Haytham growled and dropped to all fours as a wolf, it stopped.

Ratonhnhaké:ton opened his eyes, a frown across his brow. The healing hadn't worked, but nothing had changed about him. Then he felt his father's hand still on his shoulder and gave the older man a sweeping look over his body.

"Ah," echoed Ratonhnhaké:ton. "Well, at least we can signal to the other wolves that we're fun and perky Alphas."

Haytham gave him a withering glare, ears folded back and tail stiff.

"Of all the stupid things you've done, I believe that ranks highly."

Ratonhnhaké:ton shrugged, tail wagging. He was laughing at him.

"I healed though, feel!"

Haytham didn't know whether to hug him out of pride or knock him down and tussle with him on the floor for being reckless. He did both.