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06-27-2013, 01:36 AM
In the wake of healing, as her own shadow-clad figure sought to recovery from the exertion of magic use, only then did white-edged ears hear the soft words spoken by an exotic voice, tinged with the wear and wonder of more years than the Wild Rose could imagine. They were polite words, ones spoken in quiet appreciation and thanks, and they earned a low hum of acknowledgement and a slight incline of a head already head low. Dark eyes watched dragon and zephyr, voices lifting in high-pitched but quiet chatter, the exact meanings of which were lost by all but the one uttering them, yet the gist of the meaning was there. Friendship, understanding, acceptance, comfort.
It was a sound that often punctuated the quiet of that night, as the grulla mare stood silent sentinel, half drowsing on her feet. An ear was ever cocked, listening to the uneasy stirring of fever-sleep, growing alert whenever the dreams wracked the ill mare to a severe enough point that the zephyr's twitching woke the dragon coiled around it, sharing the internal heat of his fire with the youngster through the night. Then she would turn to watch the dappled pegasus where she lay beside the pale Seer, watch until the height of the dreams subsided and allowed her patient to rest more fully.
At last morning came, lighting up the mists with a dim but warm glow. The Wild Rose was awake, nosing through the bracken and loam for a nibble or two of grass or perhaps some specimen of herbalistic healing. At first she was not aware the pegasus had woken, until a sudden flurry of motion in her peripheral vision had her turning to look. Inwardly she cringed as the other mare lurched up in a panicked surge of motion... only to tip over almost immediately. It was good that she'd made sure that empty socket was healed up solid, or else the air would already be filled with the scent of fresh blood from a broken-open wound.
Zaffre was awake by then as well, rudely woken by the zephyr that clambered over him in its mad rush to reach and calm the panicked pegasus somewhere between the first and second passes for a more vertical view on life. Grumpily he peered blearily at the pair, blinking jade eyes clear of sleep, before begrudgingly unwinding himself in a long stretch of rustling wings and swaying tail.
A quiet chuckle escaped the grulla mare at the slow roll of emotions that thrummed between herself and the sleepy dragon, but it was a sound swiftly cut off at the shrill cry of the hitherto unnamed-in-present-company zephyr. Silas. "So that is the name of your brave little friend." Her voice was quiet and kind, warm and honest. "He followed you here when the Dragonheart's brothers stole you away from the Basin's captivity. You are safe now, my dear. There is no safer place for you than the heart of the Edge, guarded by dragons and your loyal zephyr."
Slowly she stepped forward, head dipping low to meet the blue dragon who padded over to join her. It brought her closer to the pegasus mare, yes, but the innocuous reason of greeting her still-sleepy bonded, in the eyes of a mare soul-bonded to a zephyr, would perhaps not be enough to spark a flight-or-fight reaction. She brushed her ebon muzzle against the dark hide of the blue dragon who arched up into her caress like a bizarre version of a house-cat, wings partially unfurled as a crooning sigh of contentment vibrated out of his pale chest. Affectionately she lipped the crest of the dragon's arching, undulating back, until a tail switch had him bounding over to her left hoof and then leaping straight up. The feat was aided by a quick, rather noisy beat of his wings, but the end result had him poised on the Wild Rose's withers for a heartbeat. Then he tip-toed down her spine to sprawl across her haunches in his customary location, a dark shadow over slate-gray hide.
"I used my magic to heal you," came the quiet murmur as Smoke looked up from her rarely viewed morning interlude with Zaffre. "But I could not heal everything, I am sorry to say. Only the Gods could have done more, last night." Had Torasin still been alive, she could have wielded the Moon's power alongside him to heal every ailment save that lost wing and the missing feathers on the other. Neither she nor him, though, could do anything for the loss of an extremity. Not the physical loss, nor the emotional one. Only time could do anything about that, and perhaps the blessing of a kind deity at the end of one of their bizarre quests to prove oneself.
It was a sound that often punctuated the quiet of that night, as the grulla mare stood silent sentinel, half drowsing on her feet. An ear was ever cocked, listening to the uneasy stirring of fever-sleep, growing alert whenever the dreams wracked the ill mare to a severe enough point that the zephyr's twitching woke the dragon coiled around it, sharing the internal heat of his fire with the youngster through the night. Then she would turn to watch the dappled pegasus where she lay beside the pale Seer, watch until the height of the dreams subsided and allowed her patient to rest more fully.
At last morning came, lighting up the mists with a dim but warm glow. The Wild Rose was awake, nosing through the bracken and loam for a nibble or two of grass or perhaps some specimen of herbalistic healing. At first she was not aware the pegasus had woken, until a sudden flurry of motion in her peripheral vision had her turning to look. Inwardly she cringed as the other mare lurched up in a panicked surge of motion... only to tip over almost immediately. It was good that she'd made sure that empty socket was healed up solid, or else the air would already be filled with the scent of fresh blood from a broken-open wound.
Zaffre was awake by then as well, rudely woken by the zephyr that clambered over him in its mad rush to reach and calm the panicked pegasus somewhere between the first and second passes for a more vertical view on life. Grumpily he peered blearily at the pair, blinking jade eyes clear of sleep, before begrudgingly unwinding himself in a long stretch of rustling wings and swaying tail.
A quiet chuckle escaped the grulla mare at the slow roll of emotions that thrummed between herself and the sleepy dragon, but it was a sound swiftly cut off at the shrill cry of the hitherto unnamed-in-present-company zephyr. Silas. "So that is the name of your brave little friend." Her voice was quiet and kind, warm and honest. "He followed you here when the Dragonheart's brothers stole you away from the Basin's captivity. You are safe now, my dear. There is no safer place for you than the heart of the Edge, guarded by dragons and your loyal zephyr."
Slowly she stepped forward, head dipping low to meet the blue dragon who padded over to join her. It brought her closer to the pegasus mare, yes, but the innocuous reason of greeting her still-sleepy bonded, in the eyes of a mare soul-bonded to a zephyr, would perhaps not be enough to spark a flight-or-fight reaction. She brushed her ebon muzzle against the dark hide of the blue dragon who arched up into her caress like a bizarre version of a house-cat, wings partially unfurled as a crooning sigh of contentment vibrated out of his pale chest. Affectionately she lipped the crest of the dragon's arching, undulating back, until a tail switch had him bounding over to her left hoof and then leaping straight up. The feat was aided by a quick, rather noisy beat of his wings, but the end result had him poised on the Wild Rose's withers for a heartbeat. Then he tip-toed down her spine to sprawl across her haunches in his customary location, a dark shadow over slate-gray hide.
"I used my magic to heal you," came the quiet murmur as Smoke looked up from her rarely viewed morning interlude with Zaffre. "But I could not heal everything, I am sorry to say. Only the Gods could have done more, last night." Had Torasin still been alive, she could have wielded the Moon's power alongside him to heal every ailment save that lost wing and the missing feathers on the other. Neither she nor him, though, could do anything for the loss of an extremity. Not the physical loss, nor the emotional one. Only time could do anything about that, and perhaps the blessing of a kind deity at the end of one of their bizarre quests to prove oneself.
