Julia Verne
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It took Mimzy a second for her mind to finally set straight. She had never been so winded in her entire life and it wasn't even from running! It was only after she was gasping for breath on the ground that Freyr reappeared, glancing up at the arcanine with disbelief, but he saw no rider who should have been brandishing a spear on his back. Her brother hoisted her to her feet, Loki covering them. "Now might be a good time to work your hocus pocus magic, sister," he grunted as he leaped forward, stabbing a brute in the gut. Loki tackled him down, finishing the man off with a savage bite to his throat. "I'm a healer not a fighter!" she told him, but her brother didn't seem to make much sense of that. "Magic is magic is it not? Didn't that old man teach you anything? He's pretty good with a sword, you should be too," Freyr seemed barely focused on the fight and more interested with catching up with his sibling. He then whistled as someone sailed overhead. "That your friend? Looks like he's about to- Bloody hell, did you see that?" the blonde panted with excitement, making Mimzy snap her gaze in the direction he was looking.

She just saw Haldor collapse and Clyde get back to his feet. She saw the gash in his armor and the way his arm moved. He was injured and every bit of her was screaming for her to run over and heal him. "Keep your pants on, sister. He looks as if he can handle himself. You can work your witchcraft after the battle. If you can't fight, just stay behind me," Freyr directed. And Mimzy listened for once, though she didn't like how Clyde continued to fight like that. It would stress the injury, making it harder to heal. Not that it really mattered, because she was going to heal it either way. What was probably only minutes seemed like agonizing hours to Mimzy. She hated not being able to do anything until the fight was over. She was only useful when people were hurt. Freyr dug his longsword into the throat of another and then tore it out a boot planted firmly on the man's scalp as he did so. Even Murkrow and Togekiss had their face share of blood on them. The only blood Mimzy had on her was her own. Freyr sheathed his sword and grabbed a hold of his distraught sister's arm. "C'mon, you can go see your 'friend' now," he said as he led her in the direction of the knight.

As they walked over, Freyr smiled. There were similarities between the siblings, they had the same facial structure, same emerald eyes, and same skin tone. However, Freyr was broadly built, had blonde hair, and was much taller than his sister. He already had a fully grown beard, which he kept neatly cropped to his face. "That was some very good fighting, friend. It's not often we see southerners who can hold their own against the demons of these lands," he was about to pat Clyde on the shoulder when he saw how mangled his arm was. "Ooh, that looks bad," he grimaced before being shoved out of the way by Mimzy. He couldn't help but chuckle as the red head haughtily inspected Clyde's arm.

"You idiot! Did you really think you could take on a company of men with just Spinda? You had me worried sick!" she grabbed his arm, not caring if it hurt. He somewhat deserved the bit of pain for sending her away. She dropped her staff on the ground and pulled a moss covered stone from the inside of her cloak. "Fate was on your side tonight, sister. If he had not sent you, you might not have called for us. But alas, things happen for a reason and we were all meant to run into each other this night," Freyr said as a few men backed away at the sight of Mimzy doing something funny. They were all still apprehensive about magic, where as Freyr accepted it because he trusted his older sister. Oddly enough, Freyr looked as if he could have been the older one. The stone in her hand gained an earthly green glow as she assessed the wound. The moss on the stone was meant to clear the flesh of any toxins or infection before it set in. Once she knew what was wrong, though it was easy to tell from the appearance of his arm, she tucked the stone back in her pocket. "You won't feel any discomfort," she told him grudgingly.

Holding his arm with her left hand, she took her right and held it over his arm. Broken bones were always more tedious to heal. Weaving flesh was always the easiest. Where as mending organs was always the hardest. Her hand glowed a gentle green and as she ran it along his arm, she mentally saw an image of what needed to be repaired. Piece by piece, it was like putting a puzzle back together. Clyde would have only have felt a warmth from where the magic was stemming from her hand and it only took a few minutes for Mimzy to put everything back in place. Once she finished she dropped his arm, fully healed, and wiped her face with the back of her hand, reopening the cut on her cheekbone. She didn't notice the sting and instead, frowned at Clyde. "You'll need a dosage of herbs to strengthen your bones. Also, don't work that arm out too much, you need to rest it. It might feel great, but you need to give your body time to adjust or you could fracture it from premature use of it. I'll keep an eye on it for the next few days."