the Rift


[OPEN] Break a Leg - No Not Literally! [Welcoming]

Imonada Posts: 61
Hidden Account atk: 6 | def: 8.5 | dam: 3
Mare :: Pegasus :: 14.1hh :: 3 (Frostfall) HP: 58 | Buff: NOVICE
Byrneve
#5
Imonada has drifted off to neverland by now with her cleanly sculpted head laid to the cool soft turf of rich green, oblivious to poor Brisa's inner turmoil and worried hawk-like gaze upon her, so similar to a mother fretting. It is only a superficial doze however, her consciousness quickly rising to break surface when the white mare's gentle voice calls to it. "Huh," is more of a statement than a question, missing the tail inflection. "Oh. It grows wi' th' cattails. Shallaw water." She speaks in a slow, measured pace, still a bit dazed. Rest and the willow bark have aided her improved clear-headedness, but it's within the most basic of knowledge of herbalism that the positive affects will soon succumb to what ails her. 

Something is coming.

For once, she is grateful of that mysterious and invasive probe into her mind. She lifts her head and cranes her neck back just in time to see the gathering veins, writhing and prehensile, alive at the command of the golden mare meters off, she herself suffering. The wild movement startles her for a moment, but a faint aura of peace with a note of gentle power radiates outward from Resplendence and soothes it away like a caressing nuzzle. She was as beautiful as Brisa in her own way. Where the hell am I?

Imonada peers up at Brisa, her stalwart guardian, her own glittering onyx eyes critical and yet thoughtful. "She is nae well?" She asks calmly, but does not wait for a response before directing her attention back onto another new face so ethereal to address the healer in a polite, albeit tired, tone. "Well met, Madem R'splendense." Under her breath she mutters something that sounds suspiciously like 'mebbe nae so well' before she pauses. With a feathery sigh that rushes past her nostrils, she continues. Previous experience with healers had her knowing many that were straight-forward with their desire for all the details. Being careful was not only in their craft, but often woven into their very nature. "My left wing is nae guid. Ah suspect ye are quite skilled, but it is a disaster. Dinnae worry yourself wi' it." As if on cue, she winces when the said limb cycles through a flare of molten agony. "'En again, mebbe somethin' fur the pain. But ah have nae eaten or drenk in days wi' a number ah dinnae remember." With that she frowns, burrows furrowing into groves, as if shamed by this admission. How careless she had been. Would they chastise her when she was well again?

~

(ooc: I love the new layout!! I need to make one when the art comes... eeee...)

> @Resplendence & @Brisa <
elizabeth: you're not telling us everything.
red: let me put your mind at ease; i'm never telling you everything.
--blacklist

force allowed
plotting prior to death/maiming please

[Image: a0jmns.png]
line art by jennyleigh


Messages In This Thread
RE: Break a Leg - No Not Literally! [Welcoming] - by Imonada - 09-19-2015, 04:37 PM

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