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Gyllene wasn't one to slack on her duties, even if it meant dealing with some of the most annoying creatures she'd ever had the misfortune of coming across. Tim was one of those annoying sorts, and when she saw him approach her workden, Gyl was not pleased. It was far too early in the morning to be forced to deal with such a creature, and the sight of his face instantly had her feeling as if she'd rather be anywhere but where she was.

Forcing herself to take a deep breath, Gyl plastered a smile across her muzzle and canted her head slightly to the side as she watched the dullard approach.

"Healer! Healer!" His voice was broken and Tim had to force the frantic sobs down. He would not cry. He would not cry. Nope.

Okay, maybe he'd cry a little.

"Help me! Help!"

Tim skid to a halt just before Gyl, and he cast a worried - nay, terrified - stare upon her.

"I have a thorn. A big one. Okay, three thorns. One here," he gestured warily at his side, and then slid his paw around, "one here," he drew himself up manfully as he pointed at his armpit, "and one there," his voice dropped as he dropped his paw and gestured at nothing in particular.

Now, if Gyllene wasn't a lady, she'd have laughed outright at the poor fellow's discomfort. However, Gyl was a lady (at least, she considered herself one) and it would not do to burst out laughing at someone who had come to her for aid. So, as best she could, Gyllene stifled the laughter that threatened, forced a very serious expression to her face, and gave Tim a concerned look the likes of which he'd never seen before, at least on her features.

"Where is the last thorn, Tim. You must tell me, or else I cannot help you."

Tim watched the healer warily. He knew her, though he did not know her well - and she was one of those 'old blood' types who didn't seem to appreciate his presence in the pride. He was also afraid that if he did delve into where that last, final mysterious thorn was, he'd get a good laughing-at, and then he'd be forced to run (gingerly) away from the striped lioness in order to find someone else who could assist him.

And it was by pure willpower that he'd made it here, to Gyllene.

With a long-suffering sigh, Tim weighed his options.

"My arse. Not.. not in my arse, but.. just off to the side."

He narrowed his eyes, daring her to say anything.

Gyllene was not the type of lioness who Thorgrim looked after - while she was of old blood, to be certain, she was not of the type of old blood who thought that females shouldn't be able to serve as Reavers. Her beloved, lost sister had been a Reaver, and there was nothing wrong with such a thing.

However, Gyllene knew of this lion and his family, and yes, she couldn't help but laugh. It was a poorly stifled giggle, at best, and Gyllene looked unabashedly delighted only because Tim seemed so furiously distraught.

"Your bottom, then? How, Timorien, did you manage such a thing?"

Tim narrowed his eyes at that stifled laughter, his muzzle pulling down in an annoyed little moue. Gods be damned, he didn't want to have to explain such a terrible thing, especially to a female, and the very thought had Tim feeling more than a little outraged.

The entire tale was slightly embarrassing, and it was not something that he felt like going into great detail about.

"It was an accident," the lion grouched tersely with a very soft sigh, "and they hurt ever so painfully, so why don't you stop laughing," he whined, "and help me out just a bit, healer?"

Gyllene made a low, rough sound in her throat and instructed him to come closer by wave of her paw. She watched as he stumbled forth, a sick twist of her lips the only outward sign that she found amusement in his discomfort. She patiently waited until he'd seated himself before her.

"Now. Lift your paw. As I work, you'll tell me how this happened."

It wasn't every day that she was approached by a freeborn male who had gotten himself skewered here and there, and she was genuinely curious as to how it happened. A few words were spoken to the small thrall she'd recently acquired - nimble and silent. The youth moved forward and set about removing the thorns one by one. Gyl busied herself mixing a rancid smelling paste.

And she waited.

He yearned to tell her that it really wasn't any of her business, but while Tim was slow on the uptake, he was well aware of how a freeborn could make a thrall's life miserable. With both Atheris and Miela stuck as thralls - and Atheris's new squeeze - Tim was reluctant to withhold any information. He was an odd sort, he'd been called weird many times before, but he was not mean, and he did love his family.

"I was spying," he winced as the youth matter-of-factly jerked the thorn from deep on his upper thigh, "on a lady. I love her," he hastened to add, "but it's complicated."

Gyllene snorted softly and moved behind her thrall, clapping a pawful of greasy sludge on the puncture wound.

"A female? Who? You should simply speak to her - a lady doesn't want to be watched from afar. She would much prefer direct conversation. By creeping about," she waited as her thrall jerked out another thorn before she slapped another paw full of muck against his fur, "you simply look like an idiot, and no self-righteous female wants to commune with idiots."

She shook her head and fell silent, and it wasn't long before she was finished tending to the foolish male.

"Take this," she gave him a small leafen pouch with more salve, "and apply it daily. Don't forget to bathe, either."

Tim reeked, but he had to admit that whatever the lioness had used was already leeching the ache from his muscles. He didn't want to speak further on the touchy topic, especially not to her.

"Yes, well. Thank you." Tim cleared his throat and dipped his head before reaching down to take the crude leaf envelope in his mouth. "Mmphg pphfh."

That being mumbled, Timorien spun on his heel and stalked away. Maybe she was right. Maybe he should stop lurking after Miela and just... say something to her. She deserved nice things - and maybe, if he could ...figure out how, he could free her.

If he could figure out how. Therein was the problem.