|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Feb 06, 2013 5:23 pm
The bright mare's hoofsteps slowed noticeably as she neared the forest. She finally understood her father. Why he had abandoned her before she was born -what she felt was abandonment, though it was not meant to be. And how he could want to find someone else to love. Heck, she was rather fond of the sweet, gentle mare he called mate. She could understand in her mind the what and why of what he had done, but not with her heart. Not yet anyway. Perhaps she'd be able to forgive him and start over once she got back to the glen.
There were stories she had heard about this forest. Tales of predators and animals being slaughtered in the most gruesome and horrifying of ways. She shivered slightly at the thought, but given the source of the stories - her father- she was hesitant to believe them. He would do much to keep her close, she knew, but still, perhaps it would be prudent to get through this forest as quickly as possible. And so while she was not overly eager to get to the glen in a hurry she did not want to meet some grisly end like the stories.
So she picked up her hooves and started to move quicker, nerves on high alert twitching and starting with each and every unusual sound.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Feb 09, 2013 11:30 pm
  For many months, if not years, her work had been hindered. Since that fateful day when the pair of wayward children had managed to escape she had drawn the attention of a force she had yet do destroy. That wasn't to say she hadn't tried, but whatever this thing was made of was exceptional even by her standards. Had he been made in Divinity's image then he would have been spectacular, alas, he stood against her and her duty to the point that he was defined only has her nemesis.
Where she went, he followed...
She had been interrupted in many of her rituals and had not yet had the graces to properly send her sacrifices to Divinity, but she did have one reason to be satisfied, he had never managed to reach her before they were dead. If there was one thing she could still do it was give that thing the slip and by the time he tracked her, she had at the very least cast another corrupt soul into the abyss.
Today would be of no exception - she had lay very low indeed so as not to attract unwanted attention and in doing so, she had systematically removed more of the corrupt than she had in the last few months. No doubt she would have to move in time, the corrupt had ways of sowing the seeds of fear to the point her presence would be noted...but for now, what they spoke of was no more than ghost stories.
After all, the dead couldn't confirm the rumours, could they?
It was for this reason that Linaiha would find herself the center of attention as it was becoming more and more unusual for the corrupt to take a shortcut through this forest.
Alas, while Linaiha may have entered this tainted forest so too had Syntyche's 'nemesis'. He would concede that on this occasion she had been difficult to track. Now she was aware of his existence she had sought to mask her trail, but he could play this game just as well. Tracking these beasts, satanic by definition and completely against nature, had proved to be a very extreme learning curve, however he had absorbed every piece of information he found.
Their smell, their behaviour, the rumours that followed them. In addition he had focused heavily on the ritualistic manner of his particular target's behaviour. There had been a number of copycat killings, but eventually he had noted she was very precise.
Unsurprisingly his questions became more particular, odd in their content but always capable of providing him with the information that he needed.
He was no longer a child searching for scraps from it's parent, he was a full fledged hunter and he fully intended to prove this. He now knew where Syntyche was, all the signs were there and he would chase her down to the ends of the earth if he had to.
...But for now he held his peace, it was unwise for him to alert her to his presence immediately.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Feb 12, 2013 9:20 pm
Linaiha was unaware of any interest she might catch her in this deadly forest and the deadly feud that she was soon to become a part of.
Innocent and unaware of much going on in the world around her, all she had wanted was to find out truth and to get back to the family she had dreamt of being a part of for as long as she could remember. She had found her dad and learned a bit about her past that had been kept from her. She had left to try and come terms with everything and she had finally come to a place of acceptance. She was ready to return to the glen, to Laures and Bailey, to her home and family.
Her wings fluttered in agitation. She was nervous, on edge, expecting the worst despite any belief that her father was exaggerating the facts when he cautioned her, relating all the rumour and gossip about this place. She was waiting for attack at any moment. But when the anticipated attack did not come, she felt relief and started to relax just slightly. A mistake that would cost her dearly.
Based on the tales and rumours she had expected the forest to be dark and twisted, the very embodiment of all the horrors and tragedy and devestation she heard about. Blood, the smell of rot and decay, something. But the forest was ordinary. Much like any other. Even the forest to which she would be returning. It was almost a disappointment in some ways. But that was ridiculous. She did not want the stories or rumours to be true. She wanted to get back with the minimum of danger, adventure or excitement. She started to relax somewhat, her guard subconciously lowering by degrees.
Once her guard was lowered it was no hardship to take her out. A brief flash of excruciating pain was the only warning she had before the darkness mercifully claimed her. She had no clue and never even saw the danger coming before it captured her.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Feb 22, 2013 11:30 pm
dawns_aura Sorry about the delay, work came to nom on me. <3 I'll try to be a bit quicker with these in future. Syn surveyed her quarry and concluded that it wasn't her best work in certain respects. The soquili was small and insignificant in the greater scheme of things. For all intents and purposes this particular soquili was simply too tiny to be of any use, however if she looked at it in another light, she could ascertain that she had done well. Sickeningly sweet, overly pretty... This winged soquili was the epitome of corrupt and while she may not have any use in another life, she would certainly be a fitting sacrifice.
Remaining in her feline form, the Skinwalker circled the now unconscious mare and considered her options. Ironically her sacrifice already had the outlines of some of her sacrificial 'runes' placed on her form. One might have even said that Linaiha was born for this - born to be a sacrifice and an example to others... No life would await her afterwards but at least she would make an impact now, right?
Extending her claws, the Skinwalker then puckered her lips and pressed them to the Soquili's delicate skin, starting slowly and gently, she began to scratch the marks into Linaiha. Admittedly she would become much more enthusiastic as she continued her work but for now only the tiniest hints of blood began to seep into the air...
Fortunately for Linaiha, it was these tiny hints that were enough to attract the attention of the hunter. While he had been surveying the decomposing remains of another victim, the scent had caught his nose and immediately drawn his attention elsewhere. In a general sense, normal predators were far louder when they caught their prey - with their trophy in paw they had no reason to hide their presence and yet he hadn't even heard a whisper.
His eyes narrowed and without hesitation he pressed on towards the scent, ears alert as he attempted to clarify whether he was too late. He heard no struggle, no whimpering, nothing... he could only assume that whoever had been caught in this beast's paws was gone. Granted this would have been unusual as she seemed to like to keep them alive but stranger things had happened.
It wasn't long before his own silent steps brought him to the scene and he recognised the Skinwalker in an instant. The coat was undeniable and the 'care' she gave to her prey offered the final nail on the head. In those moments he couldn't help but offer his condolences to the family of the victim, she looked like she was a very pretty sort but other than that, he had no time for further sentiment.
"Oh I wouldn't do that if I were you," he said at last, stepping into view as he regarded the Skinwalker.
"You." she hissed. A statement, not a fact, she had paused in her work to regard him with a hatred that only she could possess.
"Me," he agreed mildly and raised a brow. "So are you going to bolt again my cowardly 'friend' or are we going to -"
He never got to complete his sentence as the Skinwalker elected to pounce.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Feb 26, 2013 7:37 pm
Sharp, clear bursts of pain were the first thing she noticed as the darkness receded and she entered the realm of the conscious once more. Mostly shallow wounds with crisp clear edges tracing her markings and some new ones near the delicate base of her wings - some bleeding more freely than others. She was in agony, wanting to scream out her pain and fear, but something inside her warned her to keep quiet. The instincts of prey when predators are near. Her breath escaped in a short, near silent hiss as she opened her eyes.
The first thing she noticed was the bright blue spotted pelt of the one that had to be the source and subject of the rumours her father had cautioned her with. A being she had only heard of in the darkest of tales. Skinwalker. A denizen of the deepest darkest Hell. She had thought they were nothing more than myths told by elders to keep young foals in line. She had never believed in them. They were supposed to be pure evil, and how could such a thing exist?
She then noticed the male. He seemed to know the skinwalker, a relationship of enmity. The skinwalker was attacking him, her focus on him, leaving her free to escape. She started to get up, feeling each and every one of the wounds she had and trying to still be silent. Breathing shallowly, she managed to get up to her hooves without passing out from pain or doing anything to draw attention back to herself. Now all she had to do was slip past the two who were fighting and she'd be home free.
Dancing lightly on her hooves, she started to leave. But as she reached the edge of the area, something caused her to pause and look back. She could go on and be free of this. She could return to the glen. Return to her father and Bailey, to the family she had wanted for all her life. She couldn't just leave though. Someone had come and was facing the evil. He had helped her, intentionally or not, and she couldn't just leave until the whole thing played out. Until the end. So she shrunk as much as her flutter blood would allow her, and she sought a place where she could be near and watch, but not draw any attention to herself, and she watched and waited.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Feb 28, 2013 11:41 pm
It was a blur of teeth, claws, fur and blood. Neither creature was adverse to battle and they certainly didn't cower at the sight and smell of the more repulsive aspects of the living. War was never pretty and in the whirl of activity that followed it was clear that two very different styles of combat existed. For the skinwalker 'battle' consisted of hunting, accuracy wasn't important, merely the severity of the strikes. However what the stallion lacked in claws he made up for with brutal precision.
A clash of both cultures and will.
Unsurprisingly, the rumours were true when it came to the feline and her insatiable hunger. She seemed to have an endless stream of energy, whether she was driven by an overwhelming sense of fanaticism of fury was open for debate. 'Incapable' of tiring, her assaults were endless and it was unclear as to whether Tempest possessed the strength and endurance to survive through the assaults.
Little by little she ripped, tore and slashed at his flesh...and yet he didn't budge. His eyes flashed with fury and he threw himself at the Skinwalker with equal ferocity but for the most part the encounter seemed 'balanced' with no immediate end it sight. This conflict would end only when one fell in battle and it was highly likely that it would be the stallion who fell for he did not have 'unholy powers' coursing through his veins to keep him standing.
...Or at least that's the bet a reserved man might make.
What happened in the closing stages of the battle was unclear. Syntyche had changed her form, opted for something smaller and quicker but in doing so she had made herself vulnerable. In yet another flurry of movement, with a roar that would have been difficult to pinpoint to either source, one final pounce had sent the feline flying.
Had it been a buck, a head toss or something else?
Disregarding the particulars of the encounter, the feline crashed between two trees and finally smacked back first into the last with a rather unpleasant crunch. Completely still, Syntyche now lay in a crumpled heap but Tempest was not one to count his chickens before they hatched - that creature wasn't dead but there was nothing to prevent her from feigning death so that she could draw him near.
As much as he would have liked to end it there, he was quickly losing his strength. Adrenaline didn't last that long and he could already feel the pain trickling into his consciousness. Unsurprisingly his jaw tightened in discomfort and he limped back a step or two, expecting to feel his hoof on a fallen form.
...Except it wasn't there.
"Great..." he murmured darkly, glancing at where the petite fluttercorn had been. If that tiny mare was still alive, then who was to say that Syntyche hadn't 'blessed' her with that god forsaken 'magic dust' already. Was this another beast he would have to track down?
Now that he thought about it, had there been any of that strange dust? He'd seen the Skinwalker use it once before, he hadn't known what it was but his grandfather had and while the Angeni had been greatly saddened, he hadn't hesitated to slice the victim's throat. He'd said they were 'better off dead' and it had taken some prying to find out why.
"Well, at least you had the good sense to run," he murmured to his unseen audience and moved uncomfortably towards the edge of the clearing. He needed to place distance between himself and the unconscious feline as well, if only to give himself time to heal...
"Or did you..?" his ears perked and he cast his eyes from left to right. As the weak breeze had caught his nose he had sensed something that didn't quite belong. It was near by, but scrambled senses prevented him from finding it with ease for the moment.
"Might I suggest that you do make a swift exit if you are still here - she will not 'sleep' for long," he advised, tone strained as he began to move himself away from the immediate vicinity in slow but measured steps.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Mar 06, 2013 3:35 pm
Linaiha had heard stories about battle and fighting as she grew up in a herd of storytellers, but in them, battle was always ordered and neat. There were clear turns and most importantly, in her mind, there was no blood, and no chance that good would overcome evil. This was nothing like the stories she heard, and despite herself, she was intrigued and enthralled. Unable to look away, even as the blood began to really flow.
It was chaos, pure and simple. With lots of hooves and claw and teeth. The thudding of body colliding with body, tree and ground. She watched as they came closer to where she was hiding, and feared that she might end up involved in some way. But luckily for her, the tide of battle that brought them near also sent them further away. She breathed a sigh of relief, glad that she could remain here and safe, until it was over. Under her breath she whispered a prayer to whatever gods or spirits that were out there and listening that the cat-like creature did not win.
As quickly as the battle started, it seemed, it was over.
The cat was gone and the brave stallion that fought it was starting to leave… She started at that. He was about to leave, and she wouldn't even have the chance to thank him. For without his timely interference she would be dead. She knew that in her heart. Just as surely as she knew she would never be able to repay him for what he'd done. She fluttered down from her hiding place in time to hear his first gruff remarks. It startled her enough to freeze her where she landed until he turned away once more to leave this place.
'Wait…'She called out hesitantly as shifted back to her original size. She took a few steps toward him. 'T-thank you.' She stuttered shyly.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Mar 07, 2013 1:26 am
He'd never met a flutter before, he'd heard stories of them but he'd never seen one and to see a creature change size due to her flutter blood baffled him somewhat. It was somewhat ironic given that he spent most of his waking day tracking a beast that could willingly change form and that form wasn't nearly as pleasant or endearing as Linaiha's. Nevertheless pain and weariness did prevent him from demonstrating his usual social graces and he did nothing more than raise a brow at her apology. Granted, had this happened at any other time he would have been much more gracious but today was not that day!
A momentary pause and then he should his head dismissively and kept walking, pausing only momentarily to glance over his shoulder towards her. All things considered h wasn't being polite, his facial expression would make it perfectly clear that he was ordering her to follow. All things considered she wasn't in the best of states herself and while he knew there were those in the world who had healing powers he also knew that sometimes they required security and silence to perform the task they needed to.
She needed to heal, she wasn't going to do that with a Skinwalker on her tail.
"Move to safe ground first, express gratitude later," he instructed and gave a swift jerk of his head as he kept walking. "While I appreciate that you've been raised with good manners..." he limped slowly towards the forest edge and shook his head. "There are also times when I wish that the well raised also had the ability to place their priorities in order." He remarked wryly, though depending on her hearing she may or may not have heard him.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Mar 15, 2013 12:53 pm
The forest that had seemed so safe and comforting, almost home like, before that creature attacked her now seemed threatening. She knew she would have to get through it to return to the family that was waiting for her, but the thought was daunting. Now that the battle was over, and the stranger had done his good deed and she'd offered her thanks he would surely leave. She was a lone flutter, small and weak and very fragile, a fact brought home by the encounter. What if there were others like the skinwalker out there? She knew it was unlikely that she'd be lucky enough to escape a second time. She started to quiver with fear, her breath coming in quick shallow pants. Small. Fragile. Alone.
She almost missed the words, but there was no mistaking the command in his head jerk. He wanted - or rather, commanded- her to follow. Which she did happily. Surely he hadn't saved her life only to dispose of her, after all he could easily do so here. He had already proven himself to be strong, so she didn't need to fear anything befalling her in his company. Picking up her speed, she was able to catch up to him and easily keep pace, which she knew as odd given how much larger than her he was.
She missed the last bit of what he had said, but had she heard, she probably would have agreed. Being well-raised, she knew manners and while she hated the ritual and timing and all involved, but she would also admit that there was comfort in ritual, and when she was feeling out of her depth, like now, she could always count on the familiarity. It was comfortable, familiar, and most importantly, safe.
Perhaps, she thought considering the circumstances, he is being kind.. And then she saw the wound. She couldn't help the small gasp. It was deep, cutting though skin and muscle exposing bone. Her training kicked in, and she itched to do something to try and help him. She wanted to tell him to stop -he really shouldn't be walking on it, it might affect how the wound healed, and the risk of infection… - but her instincts warred. It wasn't safe. What if the skinwalker returned to finish what she started? All she could do was keep an eye on him until they reached somewhere they could stop and not risk danger.
'Is there somewhere safe nearby?' Faced with an injury, a task of healing which she was trained for, she was able to push through her inherent shyness to do what needed to be done.' You really shouldn't leave your wound unattended. It could become crippling, permanent, if it's not taken care of soon.'
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Mar 16, 2013 1:06 am
A first for him to be sure.
More often than not those of the world judged him by his rather ferocious appearance and thought nothing of what ailments he might have. It was something his father had been subjected to and had warned them about.. Fortunately, his father had also reassured his children that while the majority of the world may make their assumptions there were always those who would defy that view. His mother had been an example of that and had been a balm to his father's wounds for much longer than Tempest had been alive, so to have an individual consider his welfare above her own...
He afforded a peculiar stare towards Linaiha, one that may have indicated his confusion. He had often been told off for his opinions, scolded for his own inclinations to stereotype, but she was female and for the most part the 'fairer' species were decidedly more. For all intents and purposes she should have been more concerned about her own wounds than his!
Granted, his might have been a touch deeper but that had never stopped them before, had it?
"I have had worse injuries," he reassured her and shook his head. "All things considered this is nothing more than it appears to be, a flesh wound," he pointed out, though his own senses betrayed him as he winced at the sharp spike of pain. Whether he liked it or not the mare was right and he would need to rest fairly soon...otherwise he would be a cripple and his mission would all but end. "But your observation is an accurate one, I will need to rest soon," he conceded, albeit begrudgingly.
He chose not to answer her question in regards to 'safety' for a while, not until he had found a suitable place. Suffice to say that it was a very open area where he could see everything as opposed to the shadowed and warm groves that hid within the forests. It was only when he had settled on this place that he came to a halt and promptly lifted his leg, pressing all of his weight onto the remaining three.
"This may be inappropriate in the present of a lady, but I am long past the point of decorum on the subject," he spoke gruffly and shook his head. "There is no such thing as 'safe' when a beast such as that exists," he stated in such a flat and matter-of-fact tone that it would have been very clear he had a distaste for those who lived lives of ignorance.
"With that in mind you do not have long to heal your wounds so do so quickly," he instructed. "When you are finished I will escort you home."
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Mar 18, 2013 7:51 pm
She had taken stock of her wounds. Once they were clean, most were simply superficial and would heal on their own without any intervention. The only ones that might present any real issue were those at the base of her wings, and then only if she used them to fly. She did not need to waste any energy on healing herself when his wounds were by far much worse than her own. Being only a half breed, her abilities to heal others were not as strong as a full unicorn, and it was more taxing on her system.
But she owed him her life, so it would be a small price to pay. ' My wounds are superficial. They'll heal on their own, I just need to clean them off to prevent infection. Yours however, well, once clean I should be able to see better. But they are deep. ' She tossed her head to get her bangs out of her eyes. ' The wounds appear to have missed any tendons and major arteries, which is all to the good.'
She noted his actions with detachment. She was trained in healing, so she had seen others at their worst, when manners and common courtesy had no place. She winced in sympathy as the pain was obvious for that brief moment, almost missing his words as she assessed what she would need, and what was nearby to help take some of the weight of the healing. There were herbs to help prevent infection and help control the pain. ' Perhaps we have different definitions and views of the word safety. I am aware that there is evil in the world- how could I not be after what you saved me from? - And perhaps you take safety to mean a place free of evil. If that is so, then obviously there would be no such thing as safety. For me, safety is a place of quiet and peace enough for one to stay and not worry about being attacked or some such thing.'
She felt a pang of longing so strong when he mentioned family that it nearly brought her to tears. She would not be able to go home just yet. Not until she was sure that Tempest was healed and the demon gone or at least far from those she cared about. She blinked rapidly, refusing to let the tears fall.'I thank you for the kind offer. I don't need to heal myself, but if it's all the same I owe you.'The competence afforded by her healing training faltered and her shyness once more started to take over.'If it is all the same to you, I would like to make sure your wounds are healed before I can return.'
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Mar 31, 2013 11:27 pm
dawns_aura (( Feel free to leave wounds that will scar on him, as she's a half breed I'm totally fine with her healing abilities closing the wounds but not completely restoring him to his former self. n_n Hell for giggles she can accidentally stab him if she likes.)) As much as he would have enjoyed arguing semantics with her, now was neither the time or the place to do so. Discussions of such depth, particularly when it came to the definition and nature of a word, often took hours and she had already agreed that where they were stood was not safe. As a result of this he did nothing more than stare at her for a few moments as he considered her remarks and then her offer, ultimately conceding that there was reason behind her words and he would be a fool to reject the offer to close the worst of his wounds.
"As much as I would like to discuss your definition of safety, you are right that now is not the best time," he murmured and released a sigh. He hobbled a little further on and then finally glanced over his shoulder. Having ascertained that he was a sufficient distance away from the forest he nodded to the flutter and then kept his eyes trained behind him - she may be granted permission to heal him but if he was required to defend himself from a disgruntled skinwalker then he would sooner catch them on the approach rather than after they'd taken a chunk out of his rear.
"Heal what you believe you can," he murmured and afforded a quick glance towards the flutter. "Do not concern yourself with wounds that you feel are above your skill, they will heal in their own time," he added. Suffice to say that no one could fault the stallion for his mettle, while some may have writhed in pain and whimpered until they were restored to their former glory, he had long come to accept that some scars never healed.
Granted he didn't have any physical scars yet (though he suspected that may change), but he'd seen enough to scar himself mentally for life - experiences were what defined a being and he saw no reason to bury them.
"Heal what you need to, tend to yourself and then I will see you escorted home safely," he paused, sucked in a breath and then smiled somewhat oddly. "And if need be I will provide you with guidance on how to deter this skinwalker at the very least."
"...For some reason she really hates onions," he mused softly.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Apr 07, 2013 12:24 pm
Lina breathed in once, deeply, and breathed out, using the action to help her settle and go once more into healer mode. She walked to his side slowly enough to allow her to get a good look at his wounds over all to form a basic plan for how to proceed and treat him. Most of the wounds were beyond her skill to heal completely, and added together... there was no way she'd be able to heal them all. 'I beg your pardon,' she murmured softly. ' I'm afraid I'll have to get a little personal.'
To diagnose just how serious the wounds were, she needed to use her horn. Most she could just poke and prod a little bit and get an idea for how bad they were without causing any undo pain. At least, she would be able to if she were more practiced and skilled. But she had not had cause to use her knowledge often enough to have that delicate touch. As she started with the lesser wounds, using just enough of her abilities to slow or stifle the bleeding, she was careful but could not help accidentally poke a little harder than she intended.
'Sorry about that,' she murmured softly, cringing as she slipped up for the third or fourth time. She didn't want to cause him any excess pain, but she also couldn't allow him to lose more blood and go into shock. The effort she exerted was beginning to cause a severe drain on her energy, but she wouldn't stop now, She refused to do anything half-way. It was a matter of pride.
She stepped back for a moment and tossed her mane slightly, making sure it was out of her eyes before preparing to deal with the last, worst wound. 'I won't be able to do much for this wound now but to start knitting the muscle and stop the bleeding. Given a few treatments, I might be able to heal it fully, but it won't ever be perfect. I can't say how you will be affected, but you will be.'
She snorted, amused by his observation about the skinwalker. ' So all I need to do is have my home surrounded by onions and that would be enough to deter her from attacking and slaughtering myself, and my family?'
A small smile quirked her lips as she imagined the reactions her father and his mate might have to such a recommendation. Bailey, as sweet as she was, was awfully naïve, and would likely take such advice to heart. And go overboard with planting as much as she could along the edges of the clearing they called home, and Laures would not only indulge her whim, but would help the planting himself. Then, it might actually be a good thing, serving as a point of reference to the directionally challenged mare. When she returned home, she may have to make a comment to that affect just to see the potential fallout. It would definitely be entertaining to see. Then she sobered. If it was ever safe enough for her to return.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Apr 08, 2013 12:38 am
She was not the most delicate of carers, or this was the conclusion that the stallion was coming to as she continued to tend to his wounds. He didn't blame her for this of course as it was unreasonable to believe that all of those with a 'horn' were capable of healing wounds. After all, his grandfather was not capable of using his and had confirmed to Tempest at a very young age that it was a weapon and not a tool of healing. However no matter whether the individual had or had not received training in medical aid, all horns were sharp and 'poking' was unavoidable.
He winced, all right he winced more than once and only after the fourth time did he tighten his jaw and mask any additional discomfort. So she may not have been the best healer in the world but he was grateful, regardless of what scars he might develop she would save him from turning into a cripple. Had he become a cripple it would have been difficult to find new purpose, nor would he have been capable of accepting that he had failed so spectacularly.
"It is fine," he breathed, closing his eyes as she sought to heal the easiest first. It was only when she made reference to the worst of his wounds that he glanced at her and raised a brow, his expression indicating that scarring was the least of his concerns. "To be fair I don't have the most approachable appearance anyway," he pointed out with a pained chuckle. "A few more scars, regardless of size, will make no difference," he murmured.
Nevertheless his reference to onions had distracted her momentarily and for a moment he forgot his own wounds and shrugged loosely at her query. This was soon followed by a small and rather disgruntled 'ow' before he provided her with a fitting response.
"While I would not rely on them as a sole source of security, I wouldn't dissuade you from placing them nearby as a deterrent," he remarked and offered a small smile, one that reached his eyes but made sure his teeth remained hidden. To be entirely honest he wasn't sure why he was hiding them as he was fairly certain she'd seen them before... common decency, he'd need to wash his mouth out first before he grinned properly.
Blood and sharp teeth - never a good combination.
"And might I suggest that you maintain your good humour?" he offered slowly and shook his head. "I suspect you have a few admirers for that smile."
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Apr 23, 2013 2:32 pm
Her attention was focused on tending his wounds, and she was listening only half-heartedly, but that was not to mean she didn't hear what he was saying, she did. Her answers were quick, honest, as she didn't have to overthink.
His smile, with blood and teeth, still held a beauty of its own. It didn't intimidate her. She found it intriguing.But those thoughts were not important. What was though, was that she completed her task. 'You're not that unapproachable, a little stern perhaps, but if you smiled… or at least didn't frown.'She paused and glanced at his face.'Definitely a smile.'
The energy drain was slowly making itself known. She just couldn't keep going forever. Perhaps she was reaching her limits for now. She shook her head.'I will be sure to pass on that suggestion to my father and his mate. I'm sure that will be well-appreciated.'She took a few steps back.
'I'm afraid that's the best I can do for now. The wounds are mostly closed, and there is not much chance of infection.'The wounds looked much better and she felt confident enough in the job she had done. And then she answered the last comment he'd made, shyness evident in her body language, not all that used to compliments.'No more admirers, I'm sure than you'd have if you smiled more often.'
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|