Up in the air [open]

the Rift

Up in the air [open]

Miykael Posts: 136

Outcast

Stallion :: Pegasus :: 17hh :: 11 :: Birdsong

Eliana :: Common Zephyr :: Roc Rottie

#16

10-11-2015, 01:31 AM

He reassured their minds by his serenity.
His countenance, wherein his soul was visible,
expressed contempt for danger.

Shortly after his arrival to the group, a familiar face joins them. Blue eyes drift to the Sultana and a soft smile curves his lips at her initial comment. "You just have to know how to deal with trees." he adds with a newly found lightness to his voice. In truth, he'd never had much difficulty with trees. Most of his time in Helovia had been spent as a member of the Edge. So many memories of leaping from the edge of the cliffs to soar out over the ocean but that had been a lighter time. A time before the invasion, before the Earth God's ship, before the wraith sickness had corrupted him and ruined the fragile strands of his relationship with Alysanne. Everything had been different then. Yet, even so, he wouldn't change any of it.

The healer watches as the smaller mare strides towards their little gathering, exuding confidence with each and every step. He listens to the Sultana's small speech, blue eyes focusing on her; as is only polite. When she falls quiet, though, he allows his gaze to shift back to Nephele and he simply remains quiet. There is little for him to say at this point and he's desperately trying to keep himself from coughing the black mess all over them. After a few moments, however, he could feel the Sultana's eyes on him. Turning to meet her gaze, he is saddened to see her confident smile fading. "Thank you, Megaera. I appreciate your concern." he replies with a gentle smile upon his face. "It was inevitable that I would eventually get the disease as well. How are you faring? And Ranjiri, Ilios?" There is no shortage of concern when he asks about them, part of him still believing that his magic is only a temporary fix. One that could wear off with time and leave them sick again. The thought distresses him, of course. But seeing the mare so clearly well certainly helped to ease his fears. "Are there many others sick in the Throat? Perhaps I should come by and lend my assistance." he offers, flashing a rather friendly smile before falling silent once more.

Miykael can't help but to notice the quiet alabaster filly hanging around the larger stallion's legs. Clinging to him, perhaps out of shyness or perhaps for other reasons but it isn't her quietness that concerns him. Instead, his eyes fall to the black mess staining her sweet, innocent face. The mere image of her, sick as she is, tugs at his heart. Yet the other stallion's voice, laced with an incredulity he should have expected, demands his attention. And the dark mare, Nephele, also voice her concern over the situation. Disbelief coloring her words almost as much as they had Tembovu's. The healer shifts, turning his head to glance between Nephele and Tembovu. "I suppose I should have been more clear." he begins, once more resisting the urge to cough. "My magic seems to cure it. Though, I admit I haven't tried using it on myself." He hadn't used it on himself for several reasons but the most prominent in his own mind is the idea that everyone else came first. He hadn't thought to use it on himself because he'd been far too busy fixing everyone else. Some would call his selfless nature foolish or that it would one day get him killed. Maybe they'd argue that if he was ill, how could he possibly help anyone else? None of that matters to him. None of their questions would ever give him reason to doubt his instinct towards selflessness. "I suppose it couldn't hurt to give it a try." he sighs, reluctant though willing - not for himself so much as to ease their worries.

Yet when the stallion speaks of the Edge, his heart leaps in his chest. Hope lights his blue eyes, lifts his spirit enough that even his physical form stands a little taller. "The Edge." he breathes. "Perhaps you've met my daughter? She's a yearling now. A pretty little brown and white girl... passionflowers bloom wherever her hooves touch." his description is almost wistful, his eyes momentarily glazing over as memories of the girl flood his mind. The healer shakes his head softly and attempts to clear his throat without spraying the black goo everywhere; pulling himself back to the group. "I am glad for the Lady Moon's blessing." he concludes, offering a soft smile to the stallion.

The alabaster filly speaks then, pulling all of the attention to her. Her question, sweet and innocent as it was, grabbed his focus. He lowers his head towards the small girl and with a gentle smile and bright sky hued eyes he answers her. "I do." as simple as the statement is, he can't help but to feel a bit jovial in her presence. "Would you like me to heal you?" he asks her, leaving it up to her even though he wasn't certain he could take no for an answer. How could he let her leave with the illness still clogging her small lungs? Miykael falls quiet, though his attention doesn't leave Erthe at this point. They all agreed, it seems, and the filly would be first. Only then would he return his attention to Nephele and cure her before the sickness gets the chance to really take hold.

M I Y K A E L
HEALER OF THE HIDDEN FALLS

Image Credit

[no idea if any of this makes any sense but it's after 2am now and I'm exhausted! So here you go!]

@Megaera @Erthë @Tembovu

[Image: mikey_by_moonstone_designs-d9dgnba.png]

icon base: Bronzehalo :: from Nickel <3

permission for all except death and dismemberment.
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