If it's not with you, herd meeting

If it's not with you, herd meeting

Willow Posts: N/A

Unregistered

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01-09-2013, 05:55 PM

WILLOW & ERMINE

.arborun lignea .. .mare. ..23 years. .. .16.3 hands.

She comes, dutiful as ever, although arguably less than others compared to her most recent absence. She has her reasons however, should any wish to query her, but she assumes most would prefer to judge rather than ask.

Such is life.

The echo of the summons still seems to drift on the winds as the spin around the large mare, shivering through her tree to send the leaves into soft music. She flicks her ears, not recognizing the voice that calls, but not doubting the sincerity with which it is used. So she crests the hill, ambling at something near a snail's pace. It's a good thing she was already nearby or the meeting might have been over with before she ever got there. A wonder she managed to win that equine race - all depends on your motivation. The threat of cold and risk of life certainly is a spur in Willow's side.

Hills have never been an ally of hers. The weight of the tree upon her back threatens to yank her over, but she leans into the climb, hooves digging into the thawed ground for purchase. Her neck is darkening with a light sweat when she reaches Jackal, yet another sign of her recent absence and the following disuse of her body. She grunts at her weaknesses, shaking the worry from her mane as if it's nothing but dirt. Finally her gaze coasts to the being that yanked her up this rise.
She wonders only briefly now if he meant to remain on the hill alone and look down upon the herd in the lower portion; it is often a lord's want of such heights. She does not bother with it however, for she sees almost immediately his ails.

The features of his face are lost to her, let the thieves keep track of such details, and the ripple of muscle under a healthy coat is unnoticed, let the warriors be troubled with such affairs. All Willow sees when she looks upon the red is the way his body weight leans away from his left side, how his haunches are tucked to support himself more than normal, and how the flesh is swollen about his knee joint and stiff by his shoulder. Next she sights the dragon, its body so still for a moment she fears it's been knocked unconscious - if dead she would expect a larger spectacle. She sees the gentle rise and fall of it's ribs, but the face of the King of Thieves tells her enough. The dragon's health is not in dire straights. Sleeping then, perhaps.

"You are hurt," she says by way of greeting. It's not a question, as though asking for confirmation or motion to treat him, nor is it an empty statement gilded with a threat. She strides confidently the rest of the way towards him, pulling up sharply in front. The movements cause her tree to sway, branches moving with a whisper. "Ermine," she calls, her voice strict and unyielding. She is in her element now she takes it seriously.

The stoat pokes its head from the veil of her tree's leaves, nose sniffing the air for a moment, beady eyes regarding Jackal in curiosity, before his attention skips to Willow. "Ermine, as we practiced. Grow Eucalyptus," Willow instructed. The Ermine's talents had arisen over Frostfall and they'd spent a good deal of time practicing with it. He already knee a good host of plants by name, having been with Willow for some time, though he was not as well practiced, but his potential was dizzying to the mare that was happy enough to have a companion for her travels.

The tawny body of the ermine wound down her trunk, paws leaving small scratching noises, before he leapt of her shoulder and down to the ground. He sniffed at the grass for a moment before sitting on his haunches and closing his eyes. From the soil a small sapling began to sprout, it's trunk pale and thin while it's leaves were long and thin, giving off a slight odor. As Ermine worked Willow reached back to find a broad lily pad tucked against her tree. She yanked it around and set it by Ermine who had begun to pluck the leaves from the sapling. When he'd gathered enough and set them on the pad, Willow nodded. She strode forward, wordless as she remained intent on her action, and began to bruise, squash and otherwise grind the leaves with her massive hoof. The aroma grew pungent then, though it was not overly offensive.

Finally she glanced back up towards Jackal, a thin smile parting her lips to ease the awkward tension. Ermine began to pull the ruined leaves from the pad, revealing a murky liquid left in the bottom. It wasn't much, but they hadn't the time for something more proper. "I'm not the herd's healer, I was the storyteller last I knew, Willow's my name. I am practiced with herb though, so if you would... this will help soothe the aches and lessen the swelling. It would do well to be hale in front of the herd, in body and mind, as I imagine your news will be strong words to hear." Willow wasn't entirely sure who this was or what his injuries meant, but she'd come into the Foothills in similar fashion, where Paladin had stood half beaten, trying to temper the hearts of a throne he'd just wrestled from it's past leader. His exhaustion had given way to frustration mid-meeting. Willow wondered how much of the chaos and wounded feelings could have been avoided if the stallion had been more properly tended to, or perhaps if he just hadn't thrown himself into battle at all. Willow knew that expecting stallions not to fight would be no different from hoping the sun would rise in the west.

She leaned down to take the lily pad, motion to approach Jackal where she would pour it on his shoulder and drench his knee in it. There should just be enough to accomplish that. "It will tingle some," she warned, though the feeling was not painful it was different. If he would prefer to wait after the meeting however, she could abide by that. He was not as bad off as Paladin had been, and perhaps his youth gave him more vigor.

Faintly Willow wondered if Paladin had been who this stallion defeated. It's recent leadership changes had gone unknown by her as she hibernated in the depths of the waterfalls, training with Ermine and trying to keep the chill from stripping her tree, and her life, bare.