TO LET MY HEART BE MOVED, TO LAUGH FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART,
TO FIND MEANING IN EVERYDAY LIFE...

No, I'm one of the crafters.

Her eyes widen for a split second at the reveal, for Zya is not a healer. He is not a healer. Yet, there is a man bleeding on the floor, old and broken. The quick actions she took of getting the snow a reflex to avoid standing around looking helpless, useless, and ultimately, the work done is sloppy at best. Most of her life spent a wallflower, what more could be expected of Zyanya?
She definitely expected nothing.

Harsh words slide from the lips of Al, and a down-turned crown immediately follows, her lilac eyes seeking the safety of the floor instead of the weathered face of the man chiding her. How foolish, how presumptuous she had been to believe she could help anyone. Much to the surprise of the girl, the tiny peppermint stallion rushes back with daring words. Her eyes sheepishly look at him, finding his expression to be more-or-less jovial, which made her believe the two to be on fairly good terms.

I guess I'm not worth a real one. Immediately, the embarrassed face of the girl melts into an expression of warm sympathy, her eyes glowing with a shared sadness. "I am sorry," she says quietly, her voice thinner than the mountain air. "You deserve better than I can offer." The unknown boy beside her also worries, by the content of his words and heaviness in his voice, but the playful charade of hostility remains. Maybe it is to assauge the fears in his ivory chest or the man laying on the ground. Zya does not know which.

It was then a familiar face appeared within their little group, introduced by the harsh squawking of a griffin. The beautiful carved face of chestnut became more like an angel every time Zyanya encountered her, for she knew based on their time spent bringing Sielu from the borders that Lena possessed... incredible powers to heal. A smile, unconscious, drifts across her lips as the tension in her heart instantly settles. How could she be afraid for Albrecht, the name being filled in by her white and ruby company, when such a lady now stood among them?

She humbly strides in, placing herself effortlessly by the side of the man on the ground, taking in the sight of it all in one brief glance before offering praise to them both. Zyanya has never been praised for anything like this before, and to say that her face beamed would be an understatement.

Then, she began, her voice like sunshine in the dim of night. Relief and joy washes over her in waves, lifting my body from the state of despair it had been a few moments ago. Without much to do or say, she simply stands, listening as the healer works her magic, watching with intent eyes.

""