G A R E T H
The warmth of the fire began to fill the room, the stone immediately around the pit losing their clammy touch. It was almost homey, cozy, in a very primitive way. The snap and crackle of the flames became background noise very quickly, the orange glow dancing across the walls, providing enough light to comfortably see by.
Gareth debated briefly about telling the mare about his findings when he had gone to obtain the snow for the cauldron. He peered into their depths and found that it was still melting down steadily. He wanted the entire pot to be steaming hot before he got to work. It would be unpleasant if he tried to clean her wounds with cold rags, and he wanted the heat to help combat any infection. While the herbs and salves would do the bulk of the work, every choice mattered, especially so far from his home clinic. All the plants in the world would do them little good if he bandaged her with dirty linens.
“I think,” he took a deep breath, deciding the truth would be best. It always was, in the end. “The storm will keep us overnight at the very least if not another day.” His gaze shifted towards the entrance to the main cavern. “Which is all the same to me- we would have needed to break for camp soon anyways, and I’d rather it have been here than out in the open.”
He watched her finish the herbal mixture with a gentle expression, taking the cup from her when she showed that it was empty. He used the smaller cauldron to fish some hot water from the larger pot, then set to work on making her another cup, this time with more honey and a different mixture of herbs. The stallion placed it in front of her once more, nodding to the liquid. “That one is just to warm your insides.”
He moved around to the other side of the fire, taking a log and sliding it carefully into the pit before returning to Pangaea’s side. The cauldron was finally reaching the last bit of snow, hopefully it wouldn’t be long before it was entirely liquefied and hot enough for him to use. He settled down next to her, being mindful of her limbs and her personal space. He was going to need to get rather intimate with her when he went about cleaning and medicating her legs, so he wanted to respect her personal boundaries as much as he could for the time being.
“I know a little, yes,” Gareth said. “I’m still waiting for the snow to melt and get hot enough so that I can start to clean your wounds,” he explained. “I can tell you what I know of them until then.” The stallion took a deep breath and then pushed the air through his nares in a great sigh.
“Tempus,” he began, his vocals taking on a smooth, rumbling quality, the echo of the cavern repeating his words back to them like secrets. “Is the god of time. He is father to Vespera, the deity of Terrastella, Solis, the deity of Solterra, Caligo, the deity of Denocte, in whose realm we currently reside and is my home, and Oriens, whom I mentioned previously. Each of Tempus’ children is tasked with a different function of the day. While he oversees the balance of time itself, they are the ones who bring the sun and moon to rise, who help to bring life into the world of Novus.”
The stallion cleared his throat. “I’m not terribly familiar with the specifics, as the herd I was born to was quite isolated here in the Arma. Our beliefs were… different from the standard, though when I went out on my own I did attempt to learn something of the gods, though my knowledge is cursory at best.” He looked at the mare sheepishly, his audits turned back against his skull, embarrassed to admit this was one area where his wisdom was not quite up to par.
“Oriens brings the sun over the horizon,” he continued, “and it is to my understanding that this birthing of the dawn is what leads some to credit him for the gift of flame. He is also known to be a scholarly type, so I suppose it is not terribly beyond reason that he would bestow that knowledge upon his followers to share with the rest of the world.”
Gareth debated briefly about telling the mare about his findings when he had gone to obtain the snow for the cauldron. He peered into their depths and found that it was still melting down steadily. He wanted the entire pot to be steaming hot before he got to work. It would be unpleasant if he tried to clean her wounds with cold rags, and he wanted the heat to help combat any infection. While the herbs and salves would do the bulk of the work, every choice mattered, especially so far from his home clinic. All the plants in the world would do them little good if he bandaged her with dirty linens.
“I think,” he took a deep breath, deciding the truth would be best. It always was, in the end. “The storm will keep us overnight at the very least if not another day.” His gaze shifted towards the entrance to the main cavern. “Which is all the same to me- we would have needed to break for camp soon anyways, and I’d rather it have been here than out in the open.”
He watched her finish the herbal mixture with a gentle expression, taking the cup from her when she showed that it was empty. He used the smaller cauldron to fish some hot water from the larger pot, then set to work on making her another cup, this time with more honey and a different mixture of herbs. The stallion placed it in front of her once more, nodding to the liquid. “That one is just to warm your insides.”
He moved around to the other side of the fire, taking a log and sliding it carefully into the pit before returning to Pangaea’s side. The cauldron was finally reaching the last bit of snow, hopefully it wouldn’t be long before it was entirely liquefied and hot enough for him to use. He settled down next to her, being mindful of her limbs and her personal space. He was going to need to get rather intimate with her when he went about cleaning and medicating her legs, so he wanted to respect her personal boundaries as much as he could for the time being.
“I know a little, yes,” Gareth said. “I’m still waiting for the snow to melt and get hot enough so that I can start to clean your wounds,” he explained. “I can tell you what I know of them until then.” The stallion took a deep breath and then pushed the air through his nares in a great sigh.
“Tempus,” he began, his vocals taking on a smooth, rumbling quality, the echo of the cavern repeating his words back to them like secrets. “Is the god of time. He is father to Vespera, the deity of Terrastella, Solis, the deity of Solterra, Caligo, the deity of Denocte, in whose realm we currently reside and is my home, and Oriens, whom I mentioned previously. Each of Tempus’ children is tasked with a different function of the day. While he oversees the balance of time itself, they are the ones who bring the sun and moon to rise, who help to bring life into the world of Novus.”
The stallion cleared his throat. “I’m not terribly familiar with the specifics, as the herd I was born to was quite isolated here in the Arma. Our beliefs were… different from the standard, though when I went out on my own I did attempt to learn something of the gods, though my knowledge is cursory at best.” He looked at the mare sheepishly, his audits turned back against his skull, embarrassed to admit this was one area where his wisdom was not quite up to par.
“Oriens brings the sun over the horizon,” he continued, “and it is to my understanding that this birthing of the dawn is what leads some to credit him for the gift of flame. He is also known to be a scholarly type, so I suppose it is not terribly beyond reason that he would bestow that knowledge upon his followers to share with the rest of the world.”
"Speech" | | @Pangaea |
