| World's Edge Nurse |
| Mare :: Equine :: 17.1 :: 9 |
| Adoptable |
10-09-2012, 05:24 PM
(This post was last modified: 10-09-2012, 05:26 PM by Tor.)
NOTE: Tor met Mauja and the King asked if she would come heal some of the outcasts from the battle. She is a healer and will heal any seriously injured unicorns right now. Please post below and we'll go in rounds just like any other thread.
![[Image: tor_banner_2_by_ladyfey-d5fo3st.png]](http://fc06.deviantart.net/fs70/f/2012/266/a/7/tor_banner_2_by_ladyfey-d5fo3st.png)
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There is a white mare on the Steppe today. Light gray, splashed and painted with sweet silky creams. Her warm breath frosts in the chilled air, but she doesn't mind. The mare was born and raised in the cold, but her heart was always warm. Almost all of her strength has been recovered since the healing of Mauja- the white fallen King. Now, that had been an interesting encounter. You see, the mare was hornless. Yet she was accompanied by a King known for his racism who even had gone so far to act companionable... well, not so much 'companionable' as 'not frosty'. To a mare. Yes, a pretty mare, but not a stunning unearthly beauty. Tor's alluring brown eyes closed, white eyelashes frosted with snow. Sparkling flakes caught in her ice-white mane, and landed delicately upon her back. It was snowing again. Not hard, just the drifting of dainty white fluff, settling upon the white banks. The mare opened her eyes, letting her gaze shift. Pristine white glowed, mostly untouched. A couple of erratic bumps, with a glint of steely gray rock beneath a white cap.
The tall mare continued walking, letting her long body relax. Her ears caught the sound of her gold hooves crunching upon the ethereal white. Tor welcomed the cold kissing her skin, fondling her like a childhood friend. "So, Mauja, your followers. Again, I will tend the most needy first. Later, if needed, the less seriously injured may come after I've rested." Tor swung her huge head, looking at the stallion. Now his rump, once charred flesh and burnt skin, was a dark pink patch, still a mar in his white coat, but much better.
"talk talk talk"
move move move
think think think
Word Count: 281
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Mauja the Frozen Light Posts: 1,392
| Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 7.5 |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.2 :: 14 HP: 79.5 | Buff: HUNTER |
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Irma :: Snowy Owl :: Terrorize
& Diego :: Eurasian Eagle-Owl :: Rage
Neo |
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Striking mights and maybes even more
A useless thing called life
It's a biting cold again
It had been a very - interesting - experience, not only the healing itself but everything that had transpired in that cave. Finding out that Ophelia had a dragon, and that Irma was pretty much a loner, had only been minor revelations in comparison to everything else. The healer mare, Tor, had treated him as if he was some feral beast about to eat her the moment she turned her back, and again he was reminded, bitterly, of how deeply rooted Helovia's racist stamp on him was. It didn't matter that none of his herd had really done anything bad, except nearly kill Ophelia - they were still branded as enemies, not be trusted, vipers in a nest of birds. It was annoying, though he kept trying to remedy it. It was slow work, though, and the Qian's invasion had put most of his plans on hold. And if he fought to reclaim his home - well, everyone would just attribute it to racism, and there we go, back to square one. Mauja heaved a thoughtful sigh, tail slapping idly against his hocks, as he paced in silence beside the sturdy draft mare. Despite all her thinly veiled barbs at his supposed racism, she was likeable, and had made it onto his "tolerated and maybe even enjoyed hornless" list, sitting there snugly with Indy and Onni. Azzuen had fallen off it when he showed up to take their home from them.
Pale sunlight filtered down on their white world, pushing scarce, fragile warmth into his skin - warmth easily ripped away by the more bitter wind. He'd take a hairless patch over infection any day, but when living in a world of winter, he preferred to have neither. Things seldom went the way you wished, though, and Mauja had learned to just roll with it a long time ago. Suddenly their dreamy, quiet reverie was broken as Tor swung her large head around to peer at him. The focus of his own eyes sharpened as he looked at her, walking comfortably by her side, a step or so out and slightly behind. It was up to her where she wanted to put her medic station. "Of course," he agreed, voice smooth, masking every trace of mild irritation. Did she think him stupid, that he'd forgotten that she'd already told him that? Or that he did not know how to prioritize? He didn't play favorites with his herd. Mauja breathed in deep, lungs swelling with the cold, crisp air. It tasted of life. He expelled it in a powerful cry, thundering out like an avalanche across the Frostbreath, asking those in need of healing to assemble. "It might take a while for all to come. For some, walking is not easy," he said quietly, thinking of Faelene's jagged, twisted jog as she sought to avoid what pain she could.
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CREDITS
angels, they fell first, but I'm still here
The bull knew there were those much worse for the wear than him, but when Mauja called he saw his chance to escape the pain. It wasn’t so much the pain of his broken rib he wanted gone as the pain of the battle lost. The physical hurt reminded him to much of his failure and so he steered his big bulk towards the promised healer. It didn’t hurt as much as the day after the battle, but every breath was still painful and Lucius moved carefully, trying to walk as smoothly as he could. Every time his hooves hit an unexpected bump a gust of air left him with a slight moan, but he didn’t break his steady stride.
With his heavy crown held high and his black, wavy mane softly brushing his thick neck he approached his king and the healer from behind. And some behind that was on the draft mare! A wry smile quickly tugged on the bull’s lips and he arched his neck a bit. He tried his best to ignore the pain as he picked up his pace a little. A low rumble escaped his throat before he could help it and as he stepped up beside the mare he said: "I like that wagon you’re drag-"
He stopped dead in his tracks and just stared at the female. She lacked a horn. She. Lacked. A. Horn. Anger washed over him and his sulfur eyes flashed furiously when he turned to Mauja. He would probably not have to voice his question but he did it anyway. "Why a hornless?!" He spat and moved away from the mare as if she was carrying a disease or something. He looked at her with his muzzle wrinkled and ears flat against his black skull. He wanted to strike out at her, but in his anger he pawed his left leg and that caused his broken rib to ache something terribly. Lucius groaned and his nostrils flared when the pain shot through him as if white hot metal had been pressed to his side.
The bull stopped his tantrum and relaxed a bit. But he felt a bit betrayed by his king. They had just lost to these lesser beings and he went and dragged one of them here! It didn’t matter that she was a healer, she ought to be eaten alive! He didn’t care if she’d fought in the battle or not, she was an equine and therefore per default she was the enemy. Lucius judged them all the same, the hornless and the winged, it wasn’t even worth considering on an individual level in his mind. Right now, the only thing that kept him from breaking her lovely neck was that he’d somehow managed to make his rib worse and it was now aching just as much as it had done the first day after the battle.
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| World's Edge Nurse |
| Mare :: Equine :: 17.1 :: 9 |
| Adoptable |
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Tor's nostrils flared, tasting the flavor of pain and injury on the air, more of an instinct that anything, burned into her from healing. The white head tilted, turning slightly. Her dark eyes picked up a huge horse, a bull if anything, with two curving horns from a obsidian head, and except for the yellow amber eyes he was as dark as a starless night. Expert eyes gave him a quick looking-over- a sinister black shadow. He favored his side, as best as a stallion could, and was covered in the regulars cuts and abrasions, but his flank was bruised and smashed.
"I like that wagon you’re drag-" The bull's voice started, and shutted off abruptly as he halted beside them. Amber eyes flared with fury. Tor exhaled softly, remaining silent as he spat out 'hornless' like a fatal disease.
"The hornless can speak. And she is also your only fast way out of the broken ribs." Tor's even voice was calm, though inside she was nervous and slightly afraid of the black bull. You signed up for this, Tor. You can't simply back out because of a little racism.
Racism. Why was it unicorns? Were they simply most vocal? Most outrageous? Maybe it was because there was someone to rally them. Racism didn't just come and stay- it had to be nurtured, to be planted, to be sheltered from snow and rain. Tor was the opposite of racism, yet she held a strange view on most aspects of the world. A part of her always had been detached- if a stallion were racist, she would stay out of his way. Angry mare? Watch out. Get on their good side, be kind. Being kind and being a healer gave you a lot in life. It saved you from getting broken, mentally and physically.
"talk talk talk"
move move move
think think think
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| Hidden Account |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 16 :: 9 Buff: NOVICE |
| Sica |
10-11-2012, 05:13 PM
(This post was last modified: 10-12-2012, 03:42 PM by Faelene.)
Taking Mauja's advice it was time to find that healer, and patch her open wounds. She was certain her shoulder was starting to grow something that was not part unicorn even with her best efforts to cleanse it in the salty sea. The mare was aware if infection grew, it would take a lot more to stop it, and she would be worse off.
Limbs breaking through the snow, tugging her along Faelene was hesitant. She worried about Descaro and Aurelius, they had been burned, and cut and she would feel better to see them mended too. She had a couple problems. It was a bit harder in the wilds to know where everyone was, and with no direct signs it wasn't in her to run across the country side with her wounds herding them in. She was merely happy to get from point a to b without spilling blood. Tucking her head, ears pressed to her head, and she contemplated on her small world dilemma. The further along she trekked she came to the conclusion, getting mended would be the better idea. She could collect them better if she could move properly. While she strolled in her new found fashion, she tried not to continue questioning herself when a strong bugle cut the air. There was no doubt it was Mauja, summoning the wounded warriors. Maybe, she would not have to gather them in like a lost flock after all.
The small group her eyes would spot, and she released a hard breath from her nostrils. It was not enough force to be a snort, but almost. Where was everyone else? She was quite certain there she be a line, not just her and she paused not sure if it was Lucius or Lloyd by the distance. Oh well, she was here and wasn't about to turn back now. A tip of her nose she let out a whinny to let them know she was coming, and she further navigated through the drifts.
The closer she became she saw their healer had no horn, and could not mistake Lucius coming to the same conclusion. What the hell was going on here? Her triangle points ushered forward, and she let her charcoal gaze find Mauja. She had noticed his pink hide, but why would a hornless want to help them? Everyone was so committed to marking them as the villains, though it was them who had been cast aside from their home without real purpose. Did this equine think differently or? She couldn't understand it, and decided it didn't matter. Getting mended by anybody at this point would be better than letting things fester, and Mauja trusted her so that would be enough for Faelene.
High stepping motions, she walked past Lucius. "She's right you know," she told him, giving a hard look to the bulky stallion. "And I for one appreciate anyone's help in this." A more softened stare she turned her head to the tall mare, still not understanding her angle in this. Her head hurt enough these days to keep letting the question repeat. Either way Faelene saw no reason not to be civil. "Miss, I would rather others be healed before me, but if they are all stubborn as him I know I have a wicked gash wanting to rot and I rather not waste off by infection."
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Mauja the Frozen Light Posts: 1,392
| Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 7.5 |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.2 :: 14 HP: 79.5 | Buff: HUNTER |
|
Irma :: Snowy Owl :: Terrorize
& Diego :: Eurasian Eagle-Owl :: Rage
Neo |
|
Striking mights and maybes even more
A useless thing called life
It's a biting cold again
That it was the black, bull-like form of Lucius to show up first was a curse. While he didn't know the stallion all that well, he'd caught on more than one occasion that he was one of the more diehard racists.. and not exactly silent about it either. With Irma on his shoulder he steeled himself for what was to come, readying a number of phrases on his tongue while giving no outward sign of preparing - he just remained relaxed, at ease, ears swiveling while once his head turned to confirm that there indeed was a black bull on the horizon behind them. The heaviness of his step nearly reverberated through the snow, a faint tremor in the frozen ground even as the daintier form of Faelene slipped across it. The first comment caught him entirely by surprise, Lucius hitting on a hornless?!, until it was cut short with a disgusted exclamation and withdrawal. If he wasn't arrogant enough himself to believe he could handle the bull, Mauja might've felt fear at the display of power, sinews stretching taut under black skin and heavy hoof falling into the snow. Anything unlucky enough to have been beneath was surely dead.
Perhaps it was a good thing that Tor had a mouth in her face too, as she came with an analytical retort. Faelene backed her up, and Mauja felt grateful for the red-haired mare's presence; she was sensible, at least. "Ah, Lucius," he said, hating himself for the words coming from his mouth. "You really need to learn to take your chances. Or does not the end justify the means, hm?" One 'brow rose coolly, the rhetoric slipping off his tongue too easily. He was caught in a dilemma, a trap; part of him wanted to save face in front of Tor to prevent the spreading of more rumors of racism, as they, in the end, made attaining their goals of dominion harder. And on the other hoof... he did not want to make Lucius feel as if he were being shut down, when in truth the Ice King mirrored his opinion on the lesser races. Something sobered on his face as he maneuvered past Faelene, offering her muzzle a gentle bump in passing. "Look, we don't have much choice. The quicker we recover..." He spoke in a whisper, hoping Lucius wouldn't run away from him or attack; part of him wanted to treat the loyal bull as a rabid dog, hence his calm approach and gentle voice, but another part wanted to beat sense into his thick skull. Eyes sought his yellow, to firmly hold them, words trailing off into silence. He ought to understand, that the quicker they were back on their feet... The less pain they had to deal with... The stronger they would become, and the faster their rise. He fought the urge to murmur please.
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CREDITS
angels, they fell first, but I'm still here
| World's Edge Nurse |
| Mare :: Equine :: 17.1 :: 9 |
| Adoptable |
10-13-2012, 07:54 PM
(This post was last modified: 10-13-2012, 07:55 PM by Tor.)
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A friendlier face in this world of strangeness. Gray and white silk ripples over chiseled muscle as Tor approaches Faelene, the tobiano acting as smoothly as a river flowing downstream. Mauja's and the mare's words are heartily approved of by Tor, but she does not respond to them. Instead, she allows herself to look over a torn shoulder quickly. It's basic, more easy than burns are to heal. Burns, after all, require many months, sometimes even a year or so, to heal naturally, especially if they had melted down to the bones. Only once in her apprenticeship to the shaman had she seen that- it had been a grisly sight of muscle, fat, and a white strip of bone. The unicorn had been burnt by a full-sized dragon, and had been badly scarred on the entire left side of its body, even after many healing rituals and session.
The mender's eyes swiftly cut through the injury to the heart of it, and she allows herself a moment to prepare herself for the energy that will ebb from her. Once again, Tor opens the gateway into the healing magic, and releases it in a soft exhale on the black soldier's wound. Although she could, technically, remain five feet away and simply focus on it, breathing out on it helped the energy work more in one place, and tended to be less hard on her. Her meaning Tor. Immediately, pink and red flesh begins to knit together, entwining tendrils of crimson muscle form strong bonds, and the infection that was about to set in left. Although Tor had healed herself only once or twice, she could still recall the bizarre twinging and sparking feeling the healing had, as well as the scent of dark earth.
After the wound was mostly healed, Tor shut the golden gates inside her head firmly, pushing back the magic straining to flow out. The deep wound was hardly more than a shallow scrape. It would definitely be sore, but the pain Faelene would feel would recede swiftly and it would heal even quicker. With the smallest of frowns, Tor let herself take stock again on the wound. Yes, much better. Apart from a couple of irregulateries deeper with the muscle, which she fixed immediately. "Better, yes? And I will heal you as well, should you accept it." Tor turned her head to face the more intimidating black bull. In fact, she would prefer an angry Mauja over the massive black unicorn (ducorn?) anyday.
"talk talk talk"
move move move
think think think
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Lucius muzzle was wrinkled still, as if the equine mare had a bad smell to her, but he did listen to what all of them said. Not that the red-maned Faelene could say anything to change his mind, she being a woman who didn’t know her place, but he did see the logic with the help of Mauja’s words. In the end he trusted his leader wholeheartedly, even after the failure on the battlefield. Besides Lucius knew himself well enough to recognize that he often overreacted and he wasn’t very good with playing his cards close to his chest. And so the bull grumbled and remained silent. If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all, right?
Lucius returned Mauja’s icy gaze with his sulfur eyes. It was painfully obvious that the bull didn’t approve, but by moving his obsidian body closer to the healer he showed that he would go along with it. He watched as the painted mare healed Faelene’s shoulder, he had to say he was a bit disappointed that this striking femme didn’t bear a horn. She would have made a beautiful unicorn.
Tor’s eyes then settled on him and the bull snorted at her question. But he nodded and moved his left side towards her. "Just heal it enough so that it won’t break again when I breath. Save your strength for those more injured." he grunted and turned his head away from her. He couldn’t believe he was allowing a hornless to use her magic on him… Oh how low I have stooped.
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| World's Edge Nurse |
| Mare :: Equine :: 17.1 :: 9 |
| Adoptable |
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But the black bull accepts, despite the disgust crinkling the folds of his liquid obsidian face and sulfur eyes. Despite the stallion's racism, Tor finds that she likes the ex-Edge, truth be told. They all held a sense of nobility, majesty, and with no doubt, a strong loyalty to their leader. Mauja could not be so bad, after all, to command so much respect from a herd of vagabonds. But he is a vagabond himself. With quick, small steps, Tor approaches Lucius, remaining a healthy distance apart. Nothing to do apart from heal, Tor bids the magic free, and the healing twists into the black stallion's wounds, gentle fingers carefully knitting together sinew. Healing just a touch more than the stallion would have asked for, the painted mare's magic withdrew from the black bull. Just like with the black-and-red mare (did all the unicorns have some kind of black marking on them?!), the wound would still require careful tending, it would be tender, it would be sore. But it would heal smoothly and much faster than it would on its own.
Tor's breath exhales in a cloud of white color as she feels the surge of power leave her. But it is not so bad. Despite feeling a touch weak, she finds herself remaining upright and appearing for all the world well and strong. Healthy as an ox.
"Mauja, are there any others I should attend to? If you would like, I can stay and wait a while longer."
"talk talk talk"
move move move
think think think
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| Hidden Account |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 16 :: 9 Buff: NOVICE |
| Sica |
If anyone could convince Lucius it would be Mauja, and she held back adding any more. Surely it would feel better to breathe, no matter how it became fixed. A shake of her head, and a half grin, she returned the snowy stallion's muzzle bump. She placed herself to the healer, letting her look upon her wounds. At the same time her mind was on something that had bothered her for a while. The problem with those who were racists was they were not well at hiding it. They wore it like a coat, instead of an inner, hidden layer. If maybe they quelled those feelings, wearing a mask, and holding onto them wouldn't it be a better pay off? She couldn't say, she was not sure on the matter herself. She had met hornless ones here, and they were much different than the ones from home. It was hard to say what should be.
Holding steady, under the draft's scrutinizing gaze, she decided to speak up on an issue she had. "You don't have to heal it all the way, I've had too many scars of memories stolen from my hide," she would explain in a soft, yet firm tone. Best she could she held still, feeling the warm breath against the gash. Thing began to form, hot pulls of tissue something she would never be use to. Already she felt tremendously better. She went to test the newness, but paused when she felt deeper part of the wound shift in a better way. Tor hornless or not became on a list of decent by her actions. She placed weight to it, then smiled quite pleased. "Much better," she answered, and softened the heigth of her head in a manner of quiet respect, and gratitude. "Thank you."
Attention would go to Lucius, and she would give him a studying gaze, though he seemed to have come closer to take his turn. The hint of a grin marked her lips, but it is put to rest quickly. Face turns in Mauja's direction, she is hoping the rest will come, and briefly waits for his thought on the matter. She snaps her head in Tor's direction. "I'm sure some will come to their senses, they have burns like mine, if not worse."
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