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01-09-2013, 08:41 PM
"At least you made it home," an equable voice speaks up, the sound of approaching footfalls evident as the stallion finally makes his presence known. He had been the one to fetch Dakini from the Threshold, to invite her home to the lovely Basin, and the one who had ordered her to attack that blasted Pegasus named Aryel. The inuries had surpassed the level of damage expected, he would admit, but it had been nothing short of entertaining to watch. All the way back home he had wondered if the dappled unicorn would even make it; she had buckled to her knees in unconsciousness more than once, and the constant thought of leaving her behind had never left him. Settling to a stop near the bunch, his eyes glanced briefly to the young unicorn at Leyra's side. A short chuckle escaped his throat at her words, but he spoke nothing to her. With a turn of his head he regarded Shuler for a moment, a fellow brother of the Plague who he hardly knew, but found mutual respect for nonetheless. After all, did they not share the same rank? Then last, but not least, he looked upon the broken form that was Dakini. She was in obvious pain, no matter how hard she tried to hide it. Her attempts to reassure the foal were pitiful; why try and hide anything? If the filly were going to make it very long in the world, she needed to know nothing but the truth. "As everyone has already said, D'artagnan is a renouned doctor." The brindle thought briefly of the blood bay Mender, hoping that one day, he might get the chance to speak with him. Their words shared had always been brief, yet oddly enjoyable. "If he is not busy, I'm sure he'll take the time to cure you of your injuries." |
The Weaver's Workshop
HP: 45
