Rikyn

It’s not Lena who answers me, but Mortuus Nox. It has been a good while since I’ve actually talked to him in more than passing, a nod or hello before meandering elsewhere, but I don’t recall our last meeting going very well. To my credit and his, it had also been during the worst year of my entire life, so I probably was not as particularly awesome as I normally am. Still, the sight of the pale eyed man makes my head lift slightly, glad for the daylight that keeps him looking like a normal man, and not as horribly creepy, and dripping with blood, as he does at night.

Nodding tersely at the invitation, I step into the cool confines of the faintly lit cavern, my deer trailing behind me, looking about at the stone shelves and dangling herb bundles curiously. It smells strongly of herbs and oils, with evidence of a magical overlay, the faintest crackling energy lingering in the air that promises this is a place where the Spark’s Menders work.

"For once, doing what I was asked," I smile, rolling my eyes in a playful way, "next time I’ll tell the General to test his Corporals himself."

That strange, electrical tingling is soon born across my thrice severed shoulder as I talk, and Duir’s eyes widen as he watches the flesh magically knit itself back together cleanly. Bleating when the glimmer of the healing magic fades away and my flesh is good as new, the buck curiously presses his nose to it with eager surprise to find it exactly as it had been before Wessex had ripped me open. Smiling at my companion’s surprise when Mortuus heals him, too, Duir’s expression is dreamy as he feels the magic coursing through his body, and, when it leaves, he’s left with a most smug expression on his deep cocoa face.

Testing the leg and muscle by moving around a bit, I wiggle my leg up and down, and stretch out with most of my weight put on it. The real test will be a run, later, but the preliminary round says that Nox, while not my favorite healer about the mountain, is certainly good at his job.

"Good as new," I nod, meeting his eyes as he congratulates me on my new title, a sideways smirk dancing across my face and my gold eyes glimmering, hiding the emotional depths that I conceal behind my facades that everything is peachy keen, "thanks, Nox."

I want to make a sarcastic remark, but refrain for the time being. I probably shouldn’t go around telling the world I had no choice but do my job, having had a God write it across the heavens for the world to then hold me responsible to. They might take it the wrong way, like I didn’t like being the boss, when I wasn’t having to, you know, do all the shit they needed me to do.

Maybe I should get an assistant! Some small ass-hat to follow me around, taking notes and dealing with the small details I can’t be bothered to care about, so I can hang out with (or on top of, really) Glacia more.

Speaking of her…

"Hey, while I’ve got you here," I chime up, putting on a leadership smile (or what I think is one anyway), "I, uh, well, why I thought of it doesn’t matter I guess, but do you have much going on for Frostfall? If not, I’ve got a project I’d like to throw to you, Enna, and Lena."

[ OOC: awe yeah birthing caves two birds one thread ]