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Breath on the glass [Healer] - Erthë - 10-18-2016 Barely conscious Erthë staggered through the forest, eyes unseeing and so weak she could barely place one hoof before the other. The magic that had kept the grievous wounds in her side closed had drained away a long time ago and blood dripped in a steady stream from her belly, crimson droplets that counted down the heartbeats she had left to feel. Too long had she wandered blindly, lost in the vast wilderness of the northern tundra with neither sun or moon to guide her. Much too far had she strayed as she tried to cut the road short and cross the mountains that shielded her homeland in the north, through uncharted terrain she had only ever flown across before. She couldn't think anymore. Her mind was a maelstrom of fractured ideas and broken concepts, reason shredded until threadbare, held together only by cold fury and an inhuman determination to keep going. Home, was the one thing that kept resurfacing over and over again. She had to get home, had to see Evangeline, or Tilney, or Alune. She had to tell Tembovu what happened, and if her father happened to be there she would... would... but first she had to get home. Dirtied and broken feathers dragged through the moss and the fern as she wove through the trees, staggering this way and that as though drunk, sleeping on her feet. Mist crept across the ground and this meant something, she knew it did - but what was it again, about mist and trees that sent such warm relief through her cold, numbing limbs? Erthë tried to focus her eyes to really look at where she was, but in raising her head she overbalanced and tripped, nearly falling; a painful grunt escaped her as the uninjured shoulder caught against a tree at the last second, but even this was enough to reawaken the pain in every cut, stab and tear that littered her left side. Black lights danced before her eyes again, alluring, inviting her to fall forth into the blissful oblivion of unconsciousness. It was tempting, so very tantalizing to close her eyes, to relax, to submit to that sweet nothingness... But she mustn't. It was dangerous, Erthë knew that. She had lost too much blood; if she slept now she might never wake up again, and there was too much left to do. She hadn't done all that the Lady tasked her with, she hadn't turned in her latest piece of homework to Alune, and Kisamoa needed help with the Dead Lands... Gasping for breath the blood-splattered filly shook her head and pushed herself away from the tree in an exhausted motion, only to resume the slow, painstaking shuffle onward. It didn't even matter which direction she chose anymore; just place one cloven hoof before the other and everything would be fine. Even if her knees gave in and darkness descended over her for a second time, it would be alright. Please let it be fine. Big girls cry when their hearts are breaking Continuation from here; http://helovia.net/showthread.php?tid=25443 A healer would be nice, but anyone is welcome :D RE: Breath on the glass [Healer] - Tilney - 10-18-2016
RE: Breath on the glass [Healer] - Ultima - 10-18-2016 oh, sweet thing! zion doesn't love you! and babylon don't love you!
“No! No, hey! Stop!” As Ultima closed in, the girl – and it was a girl, pale as ice, and a familiar one, too – wobbled to her feet and shuddering, took off into the sky. She was an Edger, Ultima was positive; she remembered the distinctive coat and the spiraling horns from that dreadful meeting, and from the horror of the brambles. And her name? What was her name? “You! Girl! Girl!” No matter, no matter: the smell of blood filled her nostrils in the filly’s wake, distinctive in its tang, and without thinking Ultima leaned back, sucked in a breath – and launched after her. She couldn’t tell from here, but whatever the extent of the damage, it was a long flight to the Edge, even for a healthy horse. It may have been bearable now, but the strain of the trip— Ultima cut her companion off before he could protest. “I can’t leave her!” So they climbed into the sky. The filly sagged as she went, and Ultima held her heart firmly in her mouth, waiting for the fateful moment when the muscles gave out, when the girl plummeted through the clouds. It was no use wondering what Tilney would do then; his apprentice was alone in a situation her teacher himself had no experience with, and the pressure to perform, to show what she had learned and what she had left for— But no matter, no matter, time for that later, later, later. The peaks of those old Edge trees had begun to form through the autumn mist. Taking a deep breath, exhaling slowly through grit teeth, the Medic gathered her wits, her prayers, and followed her charge’s descent. Little grass roots. The roots of the trees, tugged into the moonlight. Ultima sent her magic out first, crashing beside the girl half out of wear and half with anxiety, eyes crushed tightly shut against any and all distraction. The seconds passing as the healing did its work was more real to her than her own body; one; then another; then another; and when her eyes finally opened, she half-expected to wake from a terrible dream. But there was the child, bloodied, tear-stained, wreathed in fog and vine. And there, behind her? Ultima glanced at him for a long moment, but she said nothing, not even his name. When at last she spoke, her eyes turned decisively to their patient. “Stay awake,” she said softly, girl to girl, angel to angel. The clear bells of her voice were muffled by exhaustion, but she persisted, leaning close. “Just a little longer. Listen to my voice. It’ll be alright.” “I promise.” @erthe A MESSY RESCUE OF BOTH POST AND BABY but we're going to thread, no one can stop me (context carried over from the previous thread!! ultima saw her while cruising around the steppe, but before she could reach erthe, erthe took off - ully followed out of worry and here we are) RE: Breath on the glass [Healer] - Erthë - 10-21-2016 Through the gloom of darkness that permeated her senses, she could sense someone approaching. With no strength left in her to rise and flee, all she could do was lay prone and listen at the sound of footfalls upon the soft ground. It was a rhythmic sound steadier by far than her own racing heartbeat, and all it could evoke in her was wave upon wave of dread. Never before in her life, not even as a newborn foal, had Erthë been so defenseless. For what might well be the first time she fully understood the fear of the weak, of the prey, of the tree rooted to the ground in the path of an approaching wildfire. Through the haze of pain and fatigue a parade of red-coated monsters marched through, armed with gleaming spears and dripping with blood with their gleaming eyes trained upon her, hungry for more carnage. When the feet paused right by her she made a feeble attempt at rising, but it was impossible; even lifting the head was too big of an effort and she collapsed back against the moss and fern, so soft and cool beneath her feverish skin. Trembling, resigned to meet her end at last, Erthë cracked open the lids of an eye to at least take the face of her murderer with her to the Lady's side - but instead of darkness, instead of the twisted countenance of a monster, light washed over her and forced her to squeeze the eye shut again. Blinded, confused - what was going on? Had the sun risen in the dead of night? "What have you done..." A soft voice reached her then, and with a shock of recognition the wounded girl realized she had a name to pair it with, a face that was, if not intimately known then at least familiar. "T-Til-ney...?" She tried to lift the head again, but all she got for her troubles was a face-full of cloth; a cloak draped gently over her body that pinned her down as effectively as if the healer had sat on her. By the gods, how weak she had become! But if Tilney was here, that had to mean that she had reached her destination. She was home again, as safe as she could ever truly become. In her relief the dams she had build to all pent up fear and pain and self-pity was broken, unleashing a long, thin whimper from her throat that ended in a sob, as tears began to roll down blood-smeared cheeks. As swirling mist and creeping vines reached for her and began to knit together the ugly tears in her skin the girl cried quietly with her face pressed hard into the earth, as though by embracing it she might receive comfort in return... The healing powers that enveloped her worked. She could feel the pain numb and fade from her limbs and with every hiccuping breath the fatigue drained away, a strengthening cordial inhaled and absorbed by the depleted essences of her soul. For long, blissful minutes she lost herself in the pleasure of relief, and when the sensations ebbed away, Erthë became aware of another standing over her. Blinking as though waking from a deep sleep, she peered up at the angelic mare and found her beautiful face familiar - though, this time without a name. Ought she know it? Probably, but then again there were so many people residing in the Edge and remembering them all would be impossible even if she stayed home more than she was away. "I'm... awake" she said, surprised to find that her voice was growing stronger already. "I... am I home? Is this the Edge, truly?" Through tear-drenched lashes the girl looked in quiet desperation from the pale seraph to the lantern-carrying Doctor, fear of being mistaken evident in her whole being. Big girls cry when their hearts are breaking @Tilney RE: Breath on the glass [Healer] - Tilney - 10-23-2016
RE: Breath on the glass [Healer] - Ultima - 10-25-2016 oh, sweet thing! zion doesn't love you! and babylon don't love you!
Ultima smiled, holding her voice low, soft and warm as the down on her wings. “Yes, the one and only,” she said, keeping her magic active for a few moments more, just to be safe. She was wrung from the flight and the anxiety, but this girl – she could not even imagine the fatigue bearing on that slight frame. “I’m surprised you flew so far on your own, you plucky thing. It’ll make a grand story.” Inspecting the girl’s face, and then her flank and the thin covering of ice, Ultima rifled through her herbology. She couldn’t call herself any sort of expert; her apprenticeship in the Edge had been largely over plants and their healing properties, partly due to her teacher’s overprotectiveness and partly because they simply had so many doctors to begin with; she was either kept away from the uglier cases or had no opportunity to observe. Practical experience – or experience of any kind – couldn’t be found here, and that was she had left. The Edge was more than covered. The Falls were not. If Tilney had had it his way, she’d have been cooped up in the Edge like Maude. Unfortunately for him, Ultima had never been an especially obliging child. Not bothering to look Tilney’s way as he spoke, she focused on keeping the girl conscious. Antibiotics, relaxants, and painkillers were good medicine; so was information, both for a medic and their charge. “You did a good job sealing the wound with this ice – it was you, wasn’t it? – not much blood lost. If you’re dizzy, or tired, I’d wager it was the trip home. I’m a bit winded, myself. Any pain at all?” Snapdragon crawled onto their patient’s shoulder as his companion stood, sweeping her primaries gently across the filly’s side. “I’m off to get you some lavender for the shock, but if it still smarts, I can bring birch leaves, too.” “Erthë, isn’t it?” She smiled again. Snapdragon purred, echoing the sentiment. “You’ve done well.” @erthe RE: Breath on the glass [Healer] - Erthë - 10-25-2016 Tilney's touch, the fair maiden's soothing voice; they both brought her cramping muscles down from high alert to a semblance of calm. A long, quivery sigh left her at their assurance that she truly was home, and as she began to trust her eyes again she because truly aware of the mist and the trees, the heady scent of damp moss and fallen leaves and that faint, salty scent of the ocean that always permeated the land. Erthë closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then another; yes, this was home. No other place on this planet could possess this scent, and unless she had been lured into some very elaborate illusion - or died, there was always that possibility - then she truly was home. But, she didn't think she was dead. For one, if she was then there should be no wounds. There would be no ache in overworked muscles, no need for healers or herbs or lanterns to light up the dark. There would be stars and moonlight and Shadow to embrace her and say welcome home, and with none of those crucial things in place this could only be the World's Edge. Halfway to heaven, not quite there yet. Besides, if there was a heaven then shouldn't these two be more in tune with one another? Even a half dead girl caught up in her own problems could feel the tension in the air, nearly palpable as she looked between the two healers. They were talking to her but not listening to what the other said, it seemed, because Tilney spoke of shelter even as the blue-painted mare complimented her on strength and intelligence and wanted to go fetch herbs. Confusion caused her brow to knit - what was going on, why weren't they looking at one another? But even though she was puzzled by the tense atmosphere, Erthë did as she was told and took a deep breath, flexed her wings and slowly, gingerly pushed herself up on her feet. Again she took a deep breath, intentionally sucking in air so that her ribs would expand to full capacity, and winced when a jolt of discomfort sizzled through her mind. "It feels... bruised" she said, and slowly let the breath escape her lungs again. One by one she tested the flexibility of her legs and the wings, careful not to overextend herself - a glance down filthy, blood-splattered body showed that while the wounds were indeed closed and scabbed over it wouldn't take much for them to open up again. "Like I was kicked around... but other than that, I'm just tired." She smiled at the winged lady, a bit shy and awkward after being praised so highly over something she considered to be natural. What should she have done, kept lying about waiting for a miracle to happen? She might be the Seer's apprentice, but not even Erthë believed in such wondrous events. Everything had a price in this life, and very few things came easily. If she wanted help, she would have to go where there was help to find; it was as simple as that. So how come this mare was praising her as if she had done something heroic? It wasn't really, now was it? But it felt rather good to receive praise. How long had it been since she last felt this kind of warm, bubbly feeling well up inside? That she couldn't immediately recall it was as good a suggestion as any, and probably explained why she was so bad at handling it too. All she could do was grin sheepishly and allow the slender white feline climb onto her shoulder as her emotions reeled; the unfamiliar sensation of having something on her back was as terrifying as the memories that surged up from hidden depths, and as if she could avoid them by refusing to acknowledge their presence the girl turned to Tilney when the white woman went off to find those herbs. "I need to talk to Tembovu" she said, the smile melting from her lips as she tried to meet the antlered physicians green gaze without faltering. "I-I need to tell him... wha-what happened. Or Aysanne. Or Alune. Or... I need to tell them what ha-ha-happened. " It was important, she should hurry, they ought to go now and not rest or make social visits because every second they stood there chatting the red monster was out there. Living. Breathing. Digging its sharp claws into flesh and spilling blood and staining the pure white snow with red, red, red, so much red...! The trembling spread from her voice and throughout her body until the filly shook violently where she stood. As memories barely suppressed brought back the ghost of pain and terror her eyes became glazed, unseeing; she made a motion as if she wanted to bolt off into the darkness again, but managed only half a step before the weight of the cat on her back made her stop dead. "I gotta tell, gotta... gotta let them know, need to warn... The red is coming, the red, the red, red Red RED..!" Like a person plunging into frigid waters she gasped for breath, struggling as though drowning on the cold night air. Unable to breathe. Unable to stop the trembling. Unable to escape the memories. Big girls cry when their hearts are breaking @Tilney RE: Breath on the glass [Healer] - Tilney - 10-29-2016
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