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 Aside from having been burned by the reaching fire, the man is brave; glancing down at his wound and rolling over to show her, she looks up to discover a most awkward image. Giggling demurely, and looking down at her hooves with a bashful flutter of her pale eyelashes, the maiden diverts her gaze before she sees too much. "Oh - oh!" she compassionately stammers, wincing at the thought of an ouchie on such soft skin, while blushing at the near glimpse of his cautiously covered gentle bits, any of whose she had never seen from such a direct angle before (she wasn't going to today, either, nope!), "It’s okay! Just a second, let me get a salve together, first. You shouldn’t have a scar then." She busies herself with her leaf pouch, reminding herself that everyone has a body, and sometimes where those bodies get hurt is just a little bit uncomfortable for both the wounded, and the healer. Feeling heat in her cheeks as she fetches out several antiseptic plants from her deep cloak pockets, she crushes them up atop a smooth, river washed stone (also procured from within her breezy draping) and her hoof. Picking up the gooey residue with her ginger lips, the girl shyly approaches the rolled over pony. Cautiously smearing the stuff on his skin and pressing sphagnum down onto it to seal the plant paste beneath, only peering with one eye when she absolutely had to (otherwise clenching them shut), she steps away to squint at the finish product, and finds it satisfactory. "You should be able to stand up for this last part!" she cheerfully smiles, her citrine eyes wrinkling with her excitement and joy to be able to help (even if it had been really uncomfortable for a little bit, there), "We should probably step away from the fire though, just in case. Leaves are very flammable, you know!" At her words, she prances back a safe distance from the edge of the burning basin, to allow her wind and earth magic room to, well, work its magic. With a passion for us we could not return? If equal affection cannot be, let the more loving one be me. |
Image Credits | Table
Hold onto this lullaby, even when the music's gone.
