in sunshine and in shadow
He is grateful for Cyrene’s presence beside him, as much as a friend as a healer. Asterion needs both, especially as her words wash over him – blind, with a broken wing. Once again the image of Aislinn strikes him hard enough to stagger, and only the brush of his friend’s curls keep him grounded.
The bay keeps his eyes open, and pulls in a shuddering breath, and steps alongside the healer. His gaze remains on the stranger, though one black-tipped ear is trained on Cyrene.
She is a fearsome, striking creature, violet as a thunderstorm on the horizon with clouds of silver hair. It is a natural thing to wonder how she came to be so injured – but her voice chases the question away. The words are soft and unsure, the shape of his name unfamiliar in her mouth; when she flinches so does his heart.
How frightened she must be, though it is almost laughable to think of himself as someone who could cause any fear. He comes no nearer until she says approach, and even then he waits, glancing again at Cyrene.
But his gaze sweeps back when she tucks in her mighty, wounded wings, and he sucks in a silent breath at the washboard rises of her ribs, the jut of her hips. I need to hear you, she says then, and almost guiltily his attention returns to her face.
He still doesn’t understand how one could be in such a state – not here, where there were so many comforts, so many soft creatures in a court of stone and silk.
“We’re approaching,” he tells her, forcing his voice above its normal seawater murmur. It is strange to raise it at all; he can’t think of the last time he had. “Cyrene’s going to examine your wing – she knows what she’s doing.” There is almost a smile in his voice, at that, and he dips his head toward the chestnut, knowing what he’d said was true.
As for himself, though – oh, Asterion is always discovering just how useless he can be.
The bay steps into the shadow of the wall, near the mare’s head. “I’m glad you made it here, Virun,” he says as he moves. “Can you tell us what happened, or where else you might be injured?” An ear twists toward the gates; a few passers-by are starting to get curious. Asterion looks at Cyrene then, raising a brow, his expression asking if he should go seek other help.
@Cyrene @Virun
