[P] ragdoll bones & bleeding hearts.

[Aislinn]

AISLINN
SHE TASTES LIKE MOONBEAMS AND LAVENDER

The trek from the blood-soaked Steppe had been long and sweltering, but it did not compare to the ache of her bleeding heart thrumming in her chest.   She had made the mistake once before for not receiving treatment after sparring; a shudder rippling down her spine as she remembered crashing into the earth, her wings barely saved from the fall. Her heart bled as longing flooded her, her memories haunting her with her king's phantom kiss — a feather-soft promise as his lips brushed the wound on her wing — before ripping her feelings into shreds. She was not as strong as everyone believed her to be, it would seem. No longer a warrior-gypsy of the ancient Rahilah, no longer the tribe's chosen Maiden, or the king's Champion of Battle. Aislinn was a ragdoll with missing limbs; her heart torn and held loosely together with makeshift strings.

Her heartache a tangible beast she sought out to tame, Aislinn had found herself asking for trouble on the Steppe; her call answered by another soldier searching for bruises and torn knuckles. Now, hours later she stumbled into the Court's hospital wing in the wee moments before daybreak. She was not the kind to ask for help often, but she did know the true value of healers; for her tribe was home to many, gifted warriors and caretakers and musicians alike.

Wincing, she limped through the shadows, night still clinging at the corners and edges of the large room. The scrape running the length down her spine between her wings was slowly trickling warm blood down her belly, dripping on the floor as she walked. Her shoulder screamed with each step, most definitely bruised, but it was not just the physical wounds that had the stormsinger asking for help. Her heart thundered in her chest, choking her lungs out of air. She was positive it must be bleeding and broken.. for there was no other explanation for the ache that tightened her throat and robbed her of oxygen.

Aislinn collapsed on one of the rectangular beds, her legs giving out underneath her as she fell. A groan escaped her lips, crying out softly into the lightening darkness, praying one of the healers had heard her.

@seree here you go darling! <3

GUESSWHO

[Seree]

A soft, lilting tune mingled with the warm crackling of the fire in the hearth. The healer softly swished their hips to their own tune, a cloth suspended in the air as they cleaned out an old, ceramic container. They had been doing some more exploring in the Court's halls as of late, and had stumbled upon a multitude of old supplies that had seemingly gone untouched for months, if not years.

Well, they had decided, such things simply wouldn't do, now would they? And the equine was quick to pilfer the old storage room, bringing all the still use-able supplies back to their little set up. A small set of two rooms, one with a burning hearth that vented to the outside and countless shelves and racks of supplies. (Well, as many supplies as they had. They were certainly working on building up more, but they had been quick to gather a few bundles of what would be in highest demand so those at least sat drying in their proper places.) The other, nothing more than a bed in which to sleep, a put of water and a few cloths set aside for bathing, but little else.

The scent of herbs and the softest tinge of smoke that escaped the chimney was already beginning to smell like home.

They had never properly had a job as a healer before. Oh sure, they had helped out those that they found during their travels, and had been taught by the Caretakers of Day, but they had never actually been one before.

They didn't think they could imagine a life doing anything else now.

They dunked the little ceramic container into the bucket of warmed water sitting on the counter top, before lifting it back out and rubbing it a few more times with the cloth to make sure they had rubbed off all the dirt and grime. It was in fairly good condition, but was still chipped and couldn't be used for storing medicines. But it could work for bringing water. It wasn't very big, but could certainly hold a few mouthfuls.

They dunked it again, rinsing it, before setting the cloth down and lifting it before their gaze, inspecting it closely. They didn't have to be overly sanitary, it was just going to be for drinking water, not wound treatment, but they didn't want to be feeding anyone dirt.

Satisfied with their inspection, they turned to set it on the jerry-rigged drying rack near the fire. A grate with metal prongs set carefully into the holes and twisted into stone until they held firm wasn't exactly ideal, but it got the job done.

Content that the container wasn't going to fall off, they turned back to their work, lifting up another container and dunking it into the water bucket as they set about cleaning it as well.

They were about halfway down washing the old pot when a groan reached their ears, quiet, but startling them from their work. It was only quick reflexes that kept them from dropping the pot to shatter on the ground as their telekinesis momentarily slipped from shock. They set it down on the counter top, taking a deep breath and blinking to calm their racing heart.

They tilted their head, cocking an ear. No... the world still sounded quite quiet, there were no sounds of hustle and bustle and no birdsong drifting down the chimney. They had woken early in order to get a head start on their cleaning before setting out later today in the hopes of pilfering more forgotten supplies, and it seemed the world was still yet to wake. And yet, here was someone within the ward's halls. Had someone woken up ill? They couldn't recall anyone coming in complaining of any symptoms that would normally develop to something more serious overnight, nor of hearing of any passing illnesses more serious than slight fever and nausea.

The groan had sounded a bit more pained than that.

With that they exited their rooms, trotting the short distance to the room from whence the pained sound had come from. They were immediately met with the vision of a winged mare sprawled out on one of the beds, and two things came to mind.

The first was that the mare looked rather familiar. They distantly recalled seeing her at the court meeting not so long ago, and remembered her face acknowledging something as she was given a title of some sort. Champion of... something. Well, Seree was the Champion of Healing, and this mare was... Battle? That sounded about right. And it certainly looked like the mare had seen some battle lately. But unfortunately, despite that recollection, they didn't have much else to go off of. For the life of them they couldn't put a name to the face. Drat. Well, hopefully it wouldn't be too awkward to ask, even though as a fellow Champion they really ought to know.

They had just been so excited about the prospect of dance! And even greater, of getting to work!

Hey, they loved their job.

The second thing they noticed was that the mare looked more than just a little pained by her injuries. They weren't just the regular bruises of training, it looked like she had been assaulted. Surely a Champion of Battle would be adept at fending off a common foe, so who had done this? The antlered equine immediately trotted forwards, coming to stand near the mare as their eyes began raking her form, beginning to take stock of her injuries even as words spilled past their lips.

"Do I need to rouse the other Caretakers? Will there be more coming in soon?"

They didn't think the mare would have retreated from the battlefield so soon if the Court was under attack, but they ought to be absolutely sure. It would be better to sound the alarm now and give treatment later if there were going to be more patients very shortly. The wounds were fresh, and while painful, didn't look life-threatening, the mare could wait a minute while Seree rallied the other medics if need be.

@Aislinn

OOC: *runs in two months late with Starbucks*