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10-12-2015, 06:46 PM
His thick, black-tipped ears remain perked as Megaera and Miykael speak of the health of the Dragon’s Throat and the search for expanding the cure. Was this winged healer truly the only on who could heal the black lung in Helovia? Disbelief and unease travelled through him— for this disease spread so swiftly. For the second time in his short time here in Helovia, he found himself thanking the Moon Goddess. The first had been for healing his body when he was been trapped beneath a melting wolf god. Now it was for the immunity her herdlands provided. So he squarely met the dark grimace that crossed the Sultana’s face. He could guess why it was there— he knew of the general mistrust and some outright hatred many had for the Edge’s goddess. He had not been there for the dark days of his Lady Moon. He sighed, shifting his weight once the dark look left Megaera’s face. If she was willing to leave that subject be, so was he. Then a small smile crossed his thick muzzle, “It seems you’ve quite a choice of two or three herdlands before you, Nephele. I never envy the choice thresholders must make.” The bright, young voice was obviously laced with illness and coughing. He frowned as she spoke— for though her intentions were remarkable (especially in a young filly)— the giant did not wish to see her remain ill. “Though I admire you putting Nephele’s health before your own, Erthe, I think you should seek healing soon— this sickness spreads so quickly to others,” he pauses, lowering his head back down to the pearl filly, “And you wouldn’t want to stunt the growth of your wings with this illness, would you?” He grins and nudges the filly with his pale muzzle, then looks expectantly at Miykael. |
- table by Niki -
@Nephele
Please tag Tembovu.
