we heal with love

Hemlock noticed the owls first, calling out to them to alert them of Alysanne’s presence before taking off from her head to fly toward them. The small flammulated owl seemed not to notice the size difference between himself and Mauja’s owls - seeing them only as brethren, creatures he could actually communicate with with the hoots and calls of their kind.

But Alysanne already knew - already assumed the worst - when she recognized them. Whenever she was needed - whenever a healer was needed - Alysanne felt her body turn to lead. Her heart and stomach would drop with a weight that was solid enough that it could keep her rooted to the spot just from fear. But she had long since learned that time meant everything in these situations and no longer let herself become weighted down by uncertainty and fear. Of all the things in her life - the life of a healer was something she knew with absolute certainty. She had been made for this.

Dropping the herb that was in her mouth as she shuffled around the garden, she took off at a quick canter through the snowy woods, following her owl guides until they found a very familiar figure standing, watching a scene before him. No longer did Mauja inspire pangs of jealousy in her. Hate was still so new, it seemed that Alysanne was incapable of directing the emotion toward more than one at a time.

“What is it Mauja?” She came up beside the spotted unicorn, looking him over and noted the slight singed hair on his chest. It didn’t look too bad but her green eyes narrowed as they looked up to his face. Free of venom or malice, her voice was chiding as though she was speaking to one of her foals. “I’ll be back to deal with you in a moment.” When would he learn not to play with fire?

But the small crowd was drawing her attention and her instincts told her that the minor blistering on Mauja was not the injury that required her full attention right in this moment. So she stepped away from him and toward the others.

“Quilyan?” His name slipped from her in utter shock as she approached and watched him behave like a father to Myrinne’s new daughter. The last she had heard, he had been with Resplendence! But there was no time to gossip (and how she knew how quickly Helovian stallions moved from mare to mare!). Impassive green eyes barely passed over Tembovu before softening as she looked to Myrrine. And as joyful as this moment was, always the healer Aly saw the blood before she saw anything else. Too much to just be the product of the birth, and still flowing.

The memories of the Moon Goddess swirled in the back of her mind but she shut them out quickly. Not this one. Her herd mates would surely aid her in her quest if she asked them but this was not the time. “Congratulations Myrinne.” She knew the butterfly girl - remembered when Kahlua had brought her home, remembered how she had played with Ilios as they learned how to fly. Somehow that little filly had become old enough to give birth. Perhaps not quite old enough however, as her body seemed to rebel against the action.

“Your daughter is so beautiful.” She croons softly at the mare, coming to stand by her side - encouraging her to focus her attention forward as Alysanne released tendrils of dark wind, rising like mist from her and focusing on the back half of Myrrine - to repair what damage had been caused by the birth. She guides the healing magic from the corner of her eye, hoping that if either of the stallions noticed and had any sense (as unlikely as it as) they would continue to distract the butterfly girls until the mother was healed. It didn’t seem that anyone else had noticed the blood yet - not even Myrrine - and Alysanne stood where she did so that she could help support the mare if she were to waiver and to continue to direct her attention toward the girl so that she would not look.

alysanne & hemlock