f l o r e n t i n e
The ruckus from the beach was a difficult thing to miss. The first thing they might have known of her arrival was the idle fall of petals, descending slowly to land amidst their rather chaotic gathering.
The colt, Damascus, with his wings like fire, was booming orders in a voice the cliffs eagerly resonated. Florentine hovered above them a moment longer, her eyes scanning, surveying, before she slowly descended.
Flora’s feet find land beside Rannveig, amethyst eyes bright as she looks to the injured horse. Sand crusted his skin from head to toe, seaweed covering him like wet vines. He was groaning in a voice storm-ragged and sand-grated.
The twilight girl steps toward him, her bag of meager medicines beside her. She had been a caretaker once, for such a brief, brief time. Her skills were paltry compared to Yana, but until word reached their Champion Healer, Florentine’s own meager skills were clearly all they had to help them.
Falling to her knees beside the drowned man she opens her bag, to reveal a flask of water and a select few tinctures. “Don’t try to speak, your throat is too sore from the saltwater and sand. Just focus on breathing for now.”
Slowly her gaze creeps over his bruised body and she huffs softly, she had healed a kitten once with magic, but not like this. She had helped Bexley too, but the Day girl’s wounds were minor then. Finnian’s injuries was far beyond her ability… “Our healer is coming, but for now you have to make do with me, I am afraid.” She says deceptively chirpy. “I have not done this before but I will try my best. I healed a kitten back from the brink of death once, I think that bodes quite well. Maybe.”
Bringing the flask to his mouth she poured a little onto lips, murmuring, “Now, drink what you can, only small sips because your throat will be too sore for any more. Use the water to clear the sand from your mouth if you can too.” Returning to her bag, Flora removed a leaf, small, green and fragile. “Chew this too, it will taste bitter, but it will ease your pain until we get you to the castle or Yana’s home.”
A smile curled the corners of her lips, her amethyst eyes blazing bright beneath the veil of her forelock. “You are lucky, my friend. Not many survive such a washing machine experience as that storm.”
Standing, she moves to her queen, drinking in the crescent moon gleaming atop her forehead. “I have sent for Yana. What I have done should tide him over until she comes. But we need her skills, desperately.”
Then, turning from Rannveig, the twilight girl’s eyes light upon Damascus, the tip of a wing extends to nudge at his shoulder. “He owes you his life Damascus. Who would have known if he would have survived without you finding him?” Her head tips, a small salute, cautiously bright.
@Finnian @Damascus @Rannveig @Arion @Raglan @Máni @Yana
this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
The colt, Damascus, with his wings like fire, was booming orders in a voice the cliffs eagerly resonated. Florentine hovered above them a moment longer, her eyes scanning, surveying, before she slowly descended.
Flora’s feet find land beside Rannveig, amethyst eyes bright as she looks to the injured horse. Sand crusted his skin from head to toe, seaweed covering him like wet vines. He was groaning in a voice storm-ragged and sand-grated.
The twilight girl steps toward him, her bag of meager medicines beside her. She had been a caretaker once, for such a brief, brief time. Her skills were paltry compared to Yana, but until word reached their Champion Healer, Florentine’s own meager skills were clearly all they had to help them.
Falling to her knees beside the drowned man she opens her bag, to reveal a flask of water and a select few tinctures. “Don’t try to speak, your throat is too sore from the saltwater and sand. Just focus on breathing for now.”
Slowly her gaze creeps over his bruised body and she huffs softly, she had healed a kitten once with magic, but not like this. She had helped Bexley too, but the Day girl’s wounds were minor then. Finnian’s injuries was far beyond her ability… “Our healer is coming, but for now you have to make do with me, I am afraid.” She says deceptively chirpy. “I have not done this before but I will try my best. I healed a kitten back from the brink of death once, I think that bodes quite well. Maybe.”
Bringing the flask to his mouth she poured a little onto lips, murmuring, “Now, drink what you can, only small sips because your throat will be too sore for any more. Use the water to clear the sand from your mouth if you can too.” Returning to her bag, Flora removed a leaf, small, green and fragile. “Chew this too, it will taste bitter, but it will ease your pain until we get you to the castle or Yana’s home.”
A smile curled the corners of her lips, her amethyst eyes blazing bright beneath the veil of her forelock. “You are lucky, my friend. Not many survive such a washing machine experience as that storm.”
Standing, she moves to her queen, drinking in the crescent moon gleaming atop her forehead. “I have sent for Yana. What I have done should tide him over until she comes. But we need her skills, desperately.”
Then, turning from Rannveig, the twilight girl’s eyes light upon Damascus, the tip of a wing extends to nudge at his shoulder. “He owes you his life Damascus. Who would have known if he would have survived without you finding him?” Her head tips, a small salute, cautiously bright.
@Finnian @Damascus @Rannveig @Arion @
★ She is clothed with strength and dignity,
and she laughs without fear of the future ★
