and bury it before it buries me
She can feel the wildness before she even sets foot into the battles. Her empathy causes her own body to tighten for a blow, her teeth clench like she may sink them into another. She wouldn't be here if it wasn't for her commander’s suggestion. That the Dusk Medics travel to the battlegrounds to heal those who required it. Elena is a child of war, born in Windskeep when the great battles against Bloodsvale were new, when the blood on the ground was fresh. When they thought victory would be swift and easy, instead of a year and a half long war that would wage and take the lives of many, far too many.
The clash of bodies against one another unhinges her soul and she tries not to think of the wounded soldiers that were brought back, to Lovelace overwhelmed with the amount of healing she had to perform. To Melody and Shiri attempted to do their best to aid her. To Elena telling stories to those who came back from battle broken, trying to ease their heavy hearts and burdened minds in the way her own mother soothed her nightmares.
That is what she will do here, her best. Even if the fighting is for sport, (a concept Elena is still unsure she actually understands) she would never turn down someone in need of healing. If she could heal a monster of his wicked injuries, she could certainly manage to patch up a solider. Elena has brought some supplies along with her, basic herbs to soothe pain and sore limbs. There is lavender for any post battle anxiety, and chamomile tea for each warrior to bring home with them to drink when they feel it is time to sleep. Remembering when she had patched another warrior and the head injury he sustained, Elena has brought along peppermint for headaches.
She sets to work quickly but carefully and compassionately. Each fighter’s emotions hit her like a wall. There is the joy of victory, shame in defeat, guilt in harming another, and bloodlust for another battle. With the high of battle, she feels them almost stronger than perhaps she normally would. The close proximity of her healing does not provide her any solace either, instead she is forced to endure it as she works, attempting to clean onto any of her own emotions that remain, buried under the rubble. She must take a moment, a breath between each of them, a blissful minute of no emotions, not even her own, where he body stays a blank canvas before the onslaught hits her again with the next one.
So she places ice on a bruise, cloth on a gash and sends the battle worn mare on her way. She does not see behind her as she organizes he\r supplies. “I will be with you in one moment,” she calls over her shoulder before blue eyes turn to face him as her empathy snatches his emotions like a snake strike. “Hello,” she says despite herself, despite the way his own emotions fill her. “I’m Elena.” An introduction. “How can I assist you?”
The clash of bodies against one another unhinges her soul and she tries not to think of the wounded soldiers that were brought back, to Lovelace overwhelmed with the amount of healing she had to perform. To Melody and Shiri attempted to do their best to aid her. To Elena telling stories to those who came back from battle broken, trying to ease their heavy hearts and burdened minds in the way her own mother soothed her nightmares.
That is what she will do here, her best. Even if the fighting is for sport, (a concept Elena is still unsure she actually understands) she would never turn down someone in need of healing. If she could heal a monster of his wicked injuries, she could certainly manage to patch up a solider. Elena has brought some supplies along with her, basic herbs to soothe pain and sore limbs. There is lavender for any post battle anxiety, and chamomile tea for each warrior to bring home with them to drink when they feel it is time to sleep. Remembering when she had patched another warrior and the head injury he sustained, Elena has brought along peppermint for headaches.
She sets to work quickly but carefully and compassionately. Each fighter’s emotions hit her like a wall. There is the joy of victory, shame in defeat, guilt in harming another, and bloodlust for another battle. With the high of battle, she feels them almost stronger than perhaps she normally would. The close proximity of her healing does not provide her any solace either, instead she is forced to endure it as she works, attempting to clean onto any of her own emotions that remain, buried under the rubble. She must take a moment, a breath between each of them, a blissful minute of no emotions, not even her own, where he body stays a blank canvas before the onslaught hits her again with the next one.
So she places ice on a bruise, cloth on a gash and sends the battle worn mare on her way. She does not see behind her as she organizes he\r supplies. “I will be with you in one moment,” she calls over her shoulder before blue eyes turn to face him as her empathy snatches his emotions like a snake strike. “Hello,” she says despite herself, despite the way his own emotions fill her. “I’m Elena.” An introduction. “How can I assist you?”
so take away this apathy
bury it before it buries me
@Zayir
![[Image: ddvotwe-59302ba6-6a81-47bf-9846-30c5a5db...0iFb4PvyXE]](https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/8026a53b-dc57-41ab-b574-9f8a8fe57ce4/ddvotwe-59302ba6-6a81-47bf-9846-30c5a5db0780.png?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7InBhdGgiOiJcL2ZcLzgwMjZhNTNiLWRjNTctNDFhYi1iNTc0LTlmOGE4ZmU1N2NlNFwvZGR2b3R3ZS01OTMwMmJhNi02YTgxLTQ3YmYtOTg0Ni0zMGM1YTVkYjA3ODAucG5nIn1dXSwiYXVkIjpbInVybjpzZXJ2aWNlOmZpbGUuZG93bmxvYWQiXX0.ujCJH7FAbsQhfZlQniMmEd_vw-VmvaTDn0iFb4PvyXE)
let's light this house on fire
we'll dance in the warmth of its blaze
pixel made by the amazing star
