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Post by dragon on Dec 22, 2009 21:49:44 GMT -5
Dorava slumped to the floor where she was, resting a bruised shoulder against the wall, before spitting out a new gobbet of blood that was running from her nose. There she simply sat, glaring daggers at F'ur's back as he and F'lix left her weyr. Good riddance, the lot of them. Though she was honestly surprised to still be alive, much less in more or less one piece, after an encounter with those two. Or, more pointedly, an encounter with F'ur.
Aonith jerked to one side just as soon as she felt the hold on her throat release. Turning, she glared after the retreating blue, but held her silence in every way. As such, she completely missed S'rei's arrival entirely until he touched her uninjured flank. Swiveling her head back around, she looked at him, before turning her gaze upon her own rider. She was alive, and in no danger of dying ... good. Good, good. Aonith had no idea if the blue pairs had simply left of their own accord, or if it had been S'rei's approach that had moved them on. Regardless, she was glad. Thank you, Salenth. She told the bronze, before looking over toward where he was for a moment. Her attention returned to within her own weyr, though, after a bare moment.
Dorava physically jumped when S'rei appeared, making her turn. At first she just stared at him. Where in Faranth's name had he come from?! It didn't take long to put two and two together though, and she shot a look in Aonith's direction before following S'rei's advice and wadding up the cloth to hold to her face. She looked up at him for a moment, and then sighed slowly. On the ledge, Aonith coughed, tried to inhale normally, and coughed again. Her main arteries were fine, despite showing an accelerated heartrate. But her windpipe had taken some damage, the bruising and ichor interfering with a clear breath. Twisting around, Aonith licked at her wounded flank, attempting to clean it. No telling what all Inocenth had crammed up into his filthy talons, after all.
"S'bi." Dorava said, the muffling of the cloth on her face completely corrupting what she actually said ... that and the broken nose. "I dum no." Gosh, talking hurt. Inhaling, she took the cloth off her face to clarify what she said. "I was on my ledge eating lunch, and F'ur dropped from above. Scared the shells out of me. It kind of snowballed from there." She gestured vaguely around the wrecked area as she reapplied the cloth to her face. The basket was smashed, now, the chair knocked over. Thankfully, she didn't really have much in the way of belongings to have been wrecked. Aonith looked the worst off, in Dorava's appraisal.
At the bottom of the cliff, Valiant finally hit bottom, light enough to survive, but not softly enough to avoid damage to an already irreparably damaged body. He wailed softly as things went crunch, and then laid still, panting. Between the exertion to slow his decent and the pain of the landing, he had no inclination to do anything but. Up top, Dorava suddenly jerked and arched her spine with a muffled cry. Straightening, she turned wide eyes toward the ledge, now knowing well where Valiant was.
Aonith looked over the edge, and then turned her attention toward the ledge again. Mandyr! Go get Val! she ordered sternly, waking the flitter from her coma-like nap. Somehow, the little green had a lucky streak, as she had not only slept through everything, she'd avoided being stomped flat at the same time. Staggering sleepily toward the edge, the fat flitter took wing and sailed all the way down to the bottom of the canyon, where she picked up Valiant by his ribcage. Turning, she started the excruciating climb back up to the weyr, under pain of being chewed by Aonith. The dragon didn't want Mandyr trying to go between with the salamandyr, as she had no idea what that would do to him while he was in shock. Mandyr was a bit put out, as it was hard enough to lift her own weight that far, much less Valiant's, too.
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Requiem
Weyrleader S'rei WM M?ta Rider A'nd Harper/Handler Dmitri Weyrbrat Miguel
Posts: 2,861
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Post by Requiem on Dec 23, 2009 5:42:53 GMT -5
From his high vigil, the bronze stirred again at her voice, his jaws parting in a wide yawn. Not a problem. Seemed like quite the mess. Were you okay, then? His mindvoice came with the definite fuzziness of a dragon recently awoken. Salenth wasn't old by any means, but he'd taken to dozing while sunning more of late. (As far as anyone knew, dragons had a much longer lifespan than humans, but since a dragon never outlived his rider there was no way to tell for certain.)
Skittish, wasn't she? Not that he could blame her. One thing you could give to F'ur; he certainly did things...definitively. But then, they didn't call him 'mad dog' at Fort for no reason, did they? S'rei's gaze flicked over to Aonith as she seemed to have trouble breathing. Dorava's nose probably didn't need any special treatment - S'rei himself could reset a nose, seeing as how that was really simple first aid that most any dragonrider knew - but his initial assessment of Aonith might have been wrong if she couldn't catch her breath.
The bronze brushed Aonith's mind again, in response to S'rei's concern. Would you like us to bring a dragonhealer up here? He was already mentally nudging at Phremath who, if anyone was paying attention, paused at her game on the nearby riverbank, head coming up as Salenth addressed her. Salenth rumbled softly to himself at Phremath's verbatim relay from Hers. He liked Kali...His said they'd known her a long time. He couldn't remember, of course, but he did like her, for all that her response was ever so grouchy.
"Clearly," S'rei commented in response to her snowballing comment, glancing at the chaos on the weyrledge. F'lix and Saboth were part of his wing, as well as Dorava and Aonith, which made the whole thing particularly...aggravating. Although he was willing to go with Salenth's assessment that it seemed that the bluepair had stepped in to dissolve this mess. He pinched lightly at the bridge of his nose, about to say something else when she suddenly cried out. Frowning at her, Worm chittered something about the blue scared one and flying far far down. Oh...Val? Was that his name? He only vaguely recalled it from the night in Dorava's weyr...
Considering Dorava didn't seem much more upset, he figured the creature just must have banged himself up a bit. That was a long way down. "He just dropped in to rough you up, then?" S'rei questioned, an incredulous note to his voice. "You're going to have to be more specific, Dorava. Are you going to need protection from him?" That was...almost laughable. If F'ur wanted to get somewhere, 'protection' would likely just be a nuisance. It was possible, he supposed, that Dorava had some sort of connection at Benden that had prompted F'ur to attack her, but it was also very unlikely. "We haven't had any problems with them for turns." His calm greys focused on her, the question behind the words clear.
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Post by dragon on Dec 23, 2009 23:15:26 GMT -5
Aonith considered the question that Salenth posed, as she attempted to inhale a clear breath. Her only problem, other than bleeding and being in pain, seemed to be the tendency for the ichor to dribble into her upper respiratory. Was that serious? Aonith didn't know. It sure hurt, though. But any dragon bite would. She'd been bitten plenty of times before, she had the marks all over her to show it, too. Most of the dragons had died for their trouble, though none had ever bitten her throat before. She had been inches from dying just then, and knew it. Was Dorava going to be able to take care of everything, with her bit of healer training? If she wasn't roughed up, possibly. But with all three of them injured? Unlikely. Even though Dorava would probably chew her out up one side and down the other for it, Aonith made the decision. It would probably be a good idea. Even if it was only for a quick check over. Dorava would forgive her. In time.
Mandyr made it back to the ledge rather quickly, given her sleepy, rather obese state. She dropped Valiant - rather roughly considering - onto the stone, and then waddled off to curl up somewhere out of the way. Aonith bent her head down and blew on the mandyr, but he only meeped slightly, not moving anything other than the one frill that wasn't pinned by his laying on it. Are you alright, little one? Aonith asked, before turning away to cough up a new dribble of ichor.
Toes bye bye. Valiant responded, eyes whirling slowly. He wasn't in pain anymore, really, but he knew something was wrong. He couldn't feel his tail, or his back legs either one. Given the damaged nature of his back legs and spine from being stomped, it was not really surprising at all that landing on his rump after that long of a fall had finished off that weak spot in his spine.
Dorava watched Val for a moment, then winced, before looking up at S'rei again. She didn't know how badly he was hurt, yet, but after the initial stab of pain, it was not more pointed than anything else she was feeling ... her own injuries, and Aonith's too. "I don't know what he was originally doing when he dropped in, S'rei." She answered. "He said something about training. He ate what was left of my scattered picnic, and then started being just as insulting as he could be. Several times he jumped me. Every time I thought I was dead for it. Nothing I did was the right thing to make him calm down again... even not saying anything at all was the wrong answer." Dorava shrugged slightly, before wincing at the flaring pain that caused her strained muscles. "Until I guess I snapped. I couldn't take it anymore. I threw him off me, tried to get away. I got caught, got the worst of everything that happened right then ... Aonith got chewed then, too. I guess Val got thrown off the ledge at that point, I don't know. I didn't see. Then F'lix showed up ..." Dorava heaved a sigh, slowly, refolding the cloth to a part that wasn't soaked already. "Did his own brand of insulting, and they both left. Just like that. I thought I was dead. I thought Aonith was dead..." Without launching into a line-by-line reiteration (which she likely couldn't do anyway, as most of it was forgotten already due to the stress of the situation), she didn't see how she could get more specific. There was no way she could say why he'd done anything that he'd done... he'd blatantly refused to answer any of the questions she'd asked him directly. Cagey as an old bat. "I don't think protection would be prudent." She answered, finally, remembering that he'd asked. "Either I am dead, or I am not. I rather think that if he'd intended me dead, I would be."
"I just ... got scared. I guess he fed off that." There wasn't anything else she could think of that would have prompted either the rider or the dragon into what they'd done. But it was plain to her, that even in her own weyr, minding her own business and not talking to anyone ... she couldn't avoid trouble.
I think our salamandyr broke his back. Aonith informed Salenth, neglecting to tell Dorava that bit of news. She did not reckon that her rider needed that right then ... not when being questioned by her wingleader.
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Requiem
Weyrleader S'rei WM M?ta Rider A'nd Harper/Handler Dmitri Weyrbrat Miguel
Posts: 2,861
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Post by Requiem on Dec 24, 2009 6:51:49 GMT -5
Already done, Salenth responded blithely. Phremath's is on her way up.
S'rei made no effort to conceal the confusion he felt - and the incredulity - at her explanation. It wasn't that he thought she was lying to him in any way. What good would that really do her? The bronzerider simply couldn't make head nor tails of this story of hers, and she clearly couldn't either. It didn't make sense. It would be a lie to say that the Weyrleader knew the bluerider well. He didn't. And the general consensus at Fort was that the man was touched in the head. S'rei didn't tend to believe that insane people could successfully navigate the pitfalls of the north, however. He simply didn't. It wasn't surprising that F'ur's actions would be nigh unto indecipherable, especially when he didn't care to be read, but that didn't mean there wasn't a perfectly logical explanation for these events, now did it?
"I don't know if we really have anyone here who could protect you," S'rei agreed honestly. "Though Fort doesn't put up with killing amongst the riders, and he hasn't murdered anyone here, so I think you're safe on that score." Peering down at her nose, he thought it wouldn't be terribly hard to set straight. A nice clean break, that one. S'rei gestured her closer. "In general, Dorava, the flamboyant types are best met with neutrality or indulgence. Extreme reactions - especially negative ones - tend to encourage them." S'rei was thinking of K'lir (whom he actually had something of a soft spot for) but he really wasn't that much different from F'ur. When people were looking for reactions, not giving them any tended to be the best course.
"We're going to have to find a new Weyrlingmaster, though...regardless of what happened here. This can hardly be considered a good example for the weyrlings. You and Aonith, of course, will have to be Grounded until we can get to the bottom of this." He wasn't about to simply assume all the fault laid with F'ur simply cause the man wasn't here to defend himself. (Or had scuttled off rather suspiciously.)
Inocenth. Mine will need to speak to Yours shortly. Can you explain what happened at all? The cold voice returned, sounding vaguely smug. Aonith's chose to get violent. Mine says he is always at the disposal of Yours. S'rei resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Was it the dragon or the rider from which that sarcasm originated? Impossible to tell. Although...northern men's response to women moving from the physical to the violent was more or less universal. That might explain a few things. (They weren't like southerners, who tended to put up with getting slapped or punched on account of the attacker being female.)
It was then that Kalierre hobbled onto the ledge, glaring around her with an expression that S'rei preferred to attribute to her pain, since that was more forgivable than a generally nasty disposition. "And what have we been doing this time? Can you go even a moment without pissing someone off, Dorava?" she growled. Definitely in a mood. "And your dragon and salamandyr have been involved again. You'd think you'd learn to control your tongue on account of them if not yourself." The tongue-lashing was thrown at Dorava without a pause in her movement towards the draconids. Taking in the marks on Aonith, she tsked, but turned to the salamandyr first. From what Phremath said, Val might well have gotten the brunt of it.
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Post by dragon on Dec 24, 2009 12:55:17 GMT -5
"Understood." Dorava answered, before complying with his wishes in every way that she could manage. Simply put, all the personality had been trounced right out of her for the moment, and she defaulted back to being utterly and completely compliant to anything told to her, just out of turns upon turns of habit. She hurt, her mindmates hurt, and that was almost all she was really and truly aware of. "I'll try to keep that in mind."
Kalierre's arrival though pasted a deeper frown on Dorava's face. She shot a look at Aonith, not sure if that was Aonith's doing or S'rei's. Either way, she held her silence on the matter. Regardless of how scathing Kali was, Aonith did need the help. Val needed the help ... and Dorava wasn't taking care of them already. Sad, that. After a short breath of release, Dorava's shoulders dropped an inch or two. "I was having lunch." came the mild, barely audible reply.
Aonith crooned softly, shifting her feet and moving off to one side, holding the afflicted leg off the ground for the movement. She got out of Kalierre's way, watching, before turning away and hacking. She quickly figured out that holding her head and neck down low kept the wounds from oozing into her lungs, and thus reduced and almost nullified the need to cough - which in turn had only aggravated the wound into oozing some more. So, with her head almost on the ground, Aonith just watched and waited.
Val was pretty much the same as he had been minutes before. He lifted one foreleg and waved it in the air a bit, cheeping a greeting and apology to Kali. Hopefully this didn't count as a point where Lust would feel inclined to eat him. Or whatever it was that Lust had promised to do. Val didn't remember that well what exactly the bronze mandyr had said. Just that it really hadn't boded well. Hi hi. Pretty. Val commented, trying to reassure everyone that he didn't hurt that bad anymore. He just ... didn't feel inclined to move, really. Not being able to feel anything past his ribs wasn't helping any, buttt ... he didn't know what that meant.
Please. Aonith asked Kali, unhappily. Acid is not good for a wound.
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Requiem
Weyrleader S'rei WM M?ta Rider A'nd Harper/Handler Dmitri Weyrbrat Miguel
Posts: 2,861
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Post by Requiem on Dec 26, 2009 17:39:53 GMT -5
Val. She knelt down where the little one lay, ignoring the protests of her hip, and gathered him up carefully in a hand. Lust she'd left with Phremath. He wasn't particularly willing to leave the infirmary that much, not with his 'Greenqueen' returned. Maybe she should have brought him, though. Stroking him lightly on his small head, she took in the awkward bend to his spine. He should be in terrible pain right now; one of his little hind legs was thoroughly mangled. But he wasn't. She closed her eyes, cupping him lightly in her hand. Poor thing. Though he didn't seem terribly distressed. Why would he, when he couldn't feel a thing? At least his forelimbs still seemed to work fine. Small blessings.
Kalierre rose, walked toward Dorava, the blue still cupped in a palm. She took in the greenrider. "I'd slap her again, S'rei, but it doesn't look like it would do much good." Glancing up at the eyes on her, she wrinkled her nose. "Oh, don't look at me that way, old man. You're too southern for your own good sometimes. A good slap can solve a lot of problems." The dragonhealer extended Val to right in front of that mangled nose. "The good news is he's not in pain. The bad news is this time you managed to cripple one of them. Collapsed spine. There's nothing I can do about it." The woman brought her hand back to her chest protectively. There was the matter of the leg and the rest that she had to fix, after all.
"Probably harsh to say it's you, but it takes two, sweetheart, and with the frequency that you end up being one of the pair...some people should be banned from Hatchings."
S'rei's hand fell on her shoulder. "Kali. Save the lecturing for another time." He squeezed the shoulder lightly, though, bending down, "I know it's because you're upset, but does she look ready to listen to much of anything right now? Aonith still needs to be tended to. So does his leg." Her look was faintly rebellious, but the dragonhealer complied just the same, returning to the green she hadn't heard. That she could never hear. Kalierre only heard her own mindmates, these days.
The bronzerider looked down at Dorava, taking her face in his hands gently. She seemed to have retreated into herself. The pain wasn't that bad. Just a broken nose. She had to have seen worse...Aonith too. It was swift, his thumbs coming together, forcing her nose back into alignment and causing it to bleed some more. "Where did Dorava go?" he asked her quietly. He took her wrist, bringing the cloth back to her face.
Kalierre laid a hand against Aonith's neck, placing Val on the curve of her snout first. "Talk to me through Phremath, beautiful. You've been coughing. Is it blood?" Her fingers explored the puncture wounds, coming back green with ichor that still seeped. "Or just the constriction of the throat, I wonder," she mused aloud.
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Post by dragon on Dec 27, 2009 14:10:15 GMT -5
Dorava looked at Kalierre for a moment, but remained silent. She knew that Val was hurt bad ... there wasn't much she could do about it though. A brief look at Val, and then Kali whisked him away again. To do who knew what to him. Dorava could only hope that she would do right by her mindmates. The straightening of her nose startled her, though - she'd known it was coming, but not when. Or how much it would hurt. All the things she'd been in, she'd never managed to break her nose before.
Naturally, she hollered, and yanked away as far as having her back to a wall would allow. Tears sprang to her eyes as she held the cloth to her face again. As such, she almost completely missed his question. When it did register, she just crunched her brows together as she looked at him past the cloth. What kind of question was that? She was right here, he'd just yanked on her nose. "No where." Came the simple reply, feeling obligated to answer.
Aonith crooned softly, watching Kalierre, being careful to not tip her head so that Val stayed put where he was placed on her snout. Reaching out to Phremath, Aonith made an effort to answer the Healer's questions. I was coughing, yes. It was blood, draining from my windpipe. I lowered my head so it wouldn't go into my lungs anymore, but I still taste it. It's not bad - just enough to be annoying. It feels like external damage is by far worse. As an example, Aonith cracked her mouth open and stuck her tongue out to be seen. It was tinged with her own ichor, but not badly, only flecks showing. Of course, some of that might have been from when she was licking her flank-wound, but she had also been swallowing most everything that landed in her mouth, so there really was no telling.
Regardless, there was no way Aonith was going to allow something to crawl down her windpipe just to see... that would start a coughing fit!
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Requiem
Weyrleader S'rei WM M?ta Rider A'nd Harper/Handler Dmitri Weyrbrat Miguel
Posts: 2,861
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Post by Requiem on Dec 28, 2009 6:58:39 GMT -5
"You're acting like someone kicked your puppy," S'rei stated mildly, the first hintings of sternness threading through his voice. "It's a broken nose." The bronzerider calmly withdrew another cloth, wiped the blood from his hands with meticulous care. "A broken nose and Aonith got a touch roughed up. Do you always overreact this much...shut down? I can't imagine it's a useful trait in war," he concluded, still not looking at her. His eyes finally came up with an unyielding intensity. "Which, like it or not, we are very much officially a part of now. Are you going to do this in the middle of a fight, too? I have to know if my wingmembers can't handle a fight; we can move you to the training wing." Did he actually intend to do that? No, not really. S'rei was attempting to galvanize some life into her. It had to be there somewhere, right? She'd acquitted herself well at the siege, so what was this sudden...withdrawal?
Phremath relayed Aonith's words dutifully, and Kalierre set her bag down, rifling through it while muttering to herself. A moment later she was cleaning out the wounds, slathering them with redwort and numbweed. She paused long enough to eye the wound to the leg critically. "You'll be happy to know there's no muscle damage," Kalierre told the dragon directly. "Ichor, but that'll clot up swiftly enough." She got the feeling Inocenth hadn't meant more than superficial damage...which was good. "I think we can get away without stiches. Just make sure Yours keeps on applying redwort and numbweed regularly...and if you continue draining a little ichor into your lungs, tell Phremath. It should stop on its own within a couple hours though."
The woman gathered little Val back up and plunked down unceremoniously beside Aonith's head, absently stroking the green's snout while she surveyed the supplies scattered around her. "All right, little guy. It shouldn't hurt you. That's a nasty break you got there. Just in case..." She applied numbweed to the leg anyway, carefully easing it back into its proper alignment before setting the small rods made specifically for salamandyrs' small limbs into place and bandaging it loosely. He wouldn't be moving his leg much, by the looks of it. "You don't hurt, eh small one?" Not that she'd hear even Val. Lust would have been helpful. If he didn't hurt, then internal injuries were unlikely...most of his organs were high enough that he should feel them. Should.
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Post by dragon on Dec 28, 2009 16:36:26 GMT -5
"No, no. I'm fine." Dorava answered. "It's just ... Kali's right. I am always in the middle of things, it seems like. I can't ... I can't seem to talk to folk without pissing them off eventually. I just ... don't know why. It has nothing to do with fighting in general... I have fought plenty, and lived to tell the tale. We will still be viable on a wing. I just ... wish I was different, I guess." Dorava shrugged, slightly. "I don't like making people so mad." She looked at the cloth, refolded it, and tried to wipe at her face a bit before offering a tentative smile that was not felt hardly at all. But she tried. She hurt a lot, her mindmates hurt a lot ... and her heart ached. Mostly, she just felt like an epic failure as a person. Almost everyone she ever met severely disliked her ... this was something she didn't like, and didn't know how to fix. "I want you to know ... I don't go around deliberately provoking trouble. I really don't. Despite how it looks. I'm not trying to do it." She offered, well knowing that none would believe her.
Aonith crooned a bit. Phremath, thank yours for me. Thank you. She tilted her head a bit to watch as Kali tended Valiant, curious how the little mandyr was going to get around now. Not that he'd been getting around particularly well after being stomped, either. She suspected that he simply wasn't, anymore... which was a sad thought to have. Val, though, seemed optimistic. He chirped to Kali occasionally, patting at her fingers with his front feet as if trying to reassure her that he'd be okay. Never once did he register feeling any of what happened to his leg or anything else. Later on when he discovered that he could not walk on his own anymore, he might become concerned or upset, but for now he seemed to be the most cheerful of the lot, trying to reassure everyone that everything was okay.
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Requiem
Weyrleader S'rei WM M?ta Rider A'nd Harper/Handler Dmitri Weyrbrat Miguel
Posts: 2,861
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Post by Requiem on Jan 2, 2010 7:13:00 GMT -5
"You'll likely be reinstated once Aonith fully heals," S'rei told her, not sure if it would help her mood any. He wasn't punishing her. Had she provoked the ex-Fortian? Most likely. But it was her weyr, and she and all her mindmates were the ones showing the strain. Kind of hard to argue with that one. "I don't know what to tell you, Dorava. Sometimes people just don't like you. It doesn't even have to be your fault. There are a lot who don't like me." Of course, it was his fault, but she didn't really need to hear that. "You learn to play the game, after awhile. It'll get easier." Reaching down, he squeezed her shoulder lightly. "Promise."
Kalierre had come up at his elbow, unabashedly using the Weyrleader as a crutch to lean against as she extended Val to Dorava. "You saved my life. I don't forget things like that. Yeah, I'm harsh on you, but I hate seeing you and these two get put through pain again and again, you know? It's not all you. It may not even mostly be you. But, Dorava, it keeps happening, and with different people. Something needs to change. I can't tell you what. My people skills are all shot to hell. Something does, though, because you three can't keep taking abuse like this. Especially not Val."
You are welcome, Aonith. And Aonith? Tell Yours...that Mine likes her. She never gets very upset at people she doesn't care about. Maybe that will help Yours to feel a little better. To know she's not alone.
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Post by dragon on Jan 2, 2010 11:54:49 GMT -5
Dorava smiled just a bit at S'rei, grateful for the encouragement. Maybe it meant more to her than it should but it wasn't something she could help - or wanted to change. Heck, sometimes she needed a kick to get out of a funk and operating again. "Thanks." She said, quietly but with genuine tone. "I'll try." A promise she would try to keep. Whether or not she would succeed ... only time would tell. But it was a start.
Her attention shifted over to Kali when the woman hobbled back over. Dorava reached up and took the little blue, cradling him gently. "I don't suppose he'll ever walk again." She mused, more to herself. Val looked happy enough ... so much attention! And he didn't hurt a bit, either. He peeped cheerfully, rubbing his head on Dorava's thumb before looking at S'rei, and then Kali, too. Good, good. Val keep. No big. He mentioned, obliquely. "It probably is me." Dorava admitted. "But I can change." Someday ... someday she'd stop being in the eye of the storm. Hopefully, eventually the storm would just stop existing! That would be nice.
Aonith rumbled softly, her whirling eyes changing colors subtly. Thank you, Phremath. I will let her know. Mine will be glad to know this. She answered, before scooting across her ledge with minimal use of her damaged flank. Stretching out on the stone, she rolled partly onto her side so she could stretch out that leg and rest the foot on the stone. It eased the trouble, though the movement itself caused her to cough again briefly. But it wasn't as harsh as it had been originally. Already her throat was mending itself, clotting and scabbing.
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