Break me down and build me up
'Cause I love the adrenaline in my veins
Time in Jarl strengthened her into the best warrior Hiemsterra had since her ascension to the throne. They all thought it impossible--a female, the princess heir, besting their top fighter to claim the crown--but through the snow and bruised ribs she proved her prowess on the field. But attacking and defending strategies were not all that she had focused on; the aftermath mattered just as much to her, the ripped skin and broken bones, the refusal to let any opponent to become a casualty. She stuck close to the camp's healers, each warrior in their hands passing through for treatment. Some had magic, others used purposefully concocted potions for everything from pain management to cell regrowth. She first learned to treat her own wounds, then progressed well enough to care for her own sparring partners. There was no magic in her veins, so she leaned on the crutch of bandages and ground herbs, various liquids and plants. She carried the knowledge of healing with her to the lands of Novus, to the Dusk Court and those under the gods of the foreign continent. It was there she opened the tower of the court to weary travelers in search of rest or help; those already of Dusk picked up skills of their own, and the court grew to be known for their unmatched healing abilities.
She was alone, the Winter-turned-Dusk girl finding her way toward the tower she spent most of her time. Behind the tower lay a small network of buildings for living and storage, and it was there she had come moments before. In her mouth held tightly was a bundle of different items, empty bottles and small glasses of medicine; the idea was to transfer the bundle for use in the tower. The first sight she was given after rounding the circular building was a figure clearly limping their way across the field. It headed toward her, someone she hadn't seen before, and with one swift motion she ended up at the entrance of the tower and placed the clothed parcel on the steps. A light canter brought her over to the visitor, and a small smile made way across her lips before huffing a greeting, "No fear, I offer aid." She placed one creamed shoulder against the side of the other mare, hoping her wing would wrap around her own painted body for support. Agonizing minutes ticked by without another word from her, and she left the girl's blackened side to rummage through the bundle on the floor. Through the excitement, the thought of giving her name never crossed her mind.
A single bottle was pulled from the pile and she opened its top, carrying it over to her newest company. "It will taste bad, but it will help with pain." She motioned for the winged mare to open her mouth so she could pour the contents on her tongue. Through the various cuts sustained, she didn't know if perhaps something worse rested inside where she couldn't see. A moment passed, then "What are your worst injuries?" Her accent lilted around them as her eyes brushed over the scarred form of the golden-accented.
She was alone, the Winter-turned-Dusk girl finding her way toward the tower she spent most of her time. Behind the tower lay a small network of buildings for living and storage, and it was there she had come moments before. In her mouth held tightly was a bundle of different items, empty bottles and small glasses of medicine; the idea was to transfer the bundle for use in the tower. The first sight she was given after rounding the circular building was a figure clearly limping their way across the field. It headed toward her, someone she hadn't seen before, and with one swift motion she ended up at the entrance of the tower and placed the clothed parcel on the steps. A light canter brought her over to the visitor, and a small smile made way across her lips before huffing a greeting, "No fear, I offer aid." She placed one creamed shoulder against the side of the other mare, hoping her wing would wrap around her own painted body for support. Agonizing minutes ticked by without another word from her, and she left the girl's blackened side to rummage through the bundle on the floor. Through the excitement, the thought of giving her name never crossed her mind.
A single bottle was pulled from the pile and she opened its top, carrying it over to her newest company. "It will taste bad, but it will help with pain." She motioned for the winged mare to open her mouth so she could pour the contents on her tongue. Through the various cuts sustained, she didn't know if perhaps something worse rested inside where she couldn't see. A moment passed, then "What are your worst injuries?" Her accent lilted around them as her eyes brushed over the scarred form of the golden-accented.
@inkheart
ahhh here we go! took the liberty to kind of move the healing process along, if you'd like me to change anything let me know! also you can decide what that pain potion tastes like for inkheart c;
