SOMNUS
In all of his days spent in Novus thus far, Somnus had yet to once encounter someone with such hostility and vehemence as the striped maiden who had sought refuge beneath the hanging branches of the willows. Brows rose in intrigue before keen verdant eyes narrowed in speculation, and above him, Alba’s mottled wings beat with indignation before she reached out with growing talons to perch upon the curve of his rump, feathers ruffled. The young owl let out a sharp hiss! towards the ungrateful stranger, before ending on a loud, echoing pop! Her beady black eyes stared towards the striped lady, judging and harsh.
’She’s angry,’ Alba thought bitterly, very clearly displeased that her consideration and efforts at seeking out this injured soul had gone so underappreciated, ’We should leave her.’
The Regent hardly resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and instead kept his face in a neutral mask. A politician’s poker face. ’No,’ he thought back, about to do no such thing despite her brazen attitude and unnecessary sarcasm, ’We are better than that, Alba. Better than them.’ Better than so many others who would take one look at this pitiful, pain-ridden creature seeking solace in blood and snow and turn on their haunches and leave her to the wolves. She was in pain, clearly, her leg a wretched mess, and in good conscience the tactician could not leave her. Would not leave her, cruel words or not.
“Be still,” he stated soothingly, finding no desire to rebuke her or comment for her previous harsh words, clearly spat in the throes of fear and desperation. With time, her tone changed, and he dared a step closer as he attempted to duck beneath the low branches of the willow tree. It was still not genuine, still forced, but Somnus wanted to help her even though she so defiantly did not trust him. That was fine. There were more important things at stake. “Let me see, please.”
Sharp emerald eyes peered down at the torn flesh of the woman’s leg. He was no medic, no caretaker, his strengths in his silver tongue and vast mind, but he knew enough about field medicine to recall what was needed to staunch the blood-flow and ease her pain. The Regent’s gaze snapped upwards to meet the fierce lavender of the striped lady’s own eyes, and he frowned thoughtfully. “I’m unfamiliar with the plant that you speak of, but I know of some that will suffice. Alba.” At the sound of her name, the barn owl upon his rump perked up to attention, prepared to be useful. “Please fetch some bee balm and blue vervain. Quickly now.” The Citadel wasn’t far, only to the north of their immediate location, and since finding her wings, Alba was remarkably swift and powerful in the skies. She would make it there and back in less than an hour.
Alba gave another hiss, this one far softer than the last, but she stretched out her dawn-hued wings and with a piercing shriek! did the barn owl take to the sky, wings beating the air in the silent way that only her kind could. Somnus spared her a glance as she departed. This would be the first time they would be apart since he had obtained her as a nestling. The Regent dutifully looked back towards the injured mare, and spoke. “That was Alba. My name is Somnus. I live in Delumine; it’s a land not too far north from here. It won’t take her too long to return with what herbs we need, but, if you allow… I’ll do what I can to clean your wound in the meantime. I promise that I won’t harm you.”
Slowly, and with considerable elegance and poise befitting of his station as the right hand of the Dawn King himself, Somnus lowered himself onto his knees by the woman’s side. “Can you tell me how you were injured?” Clearly a laceration of some kind… Caught in a trap? Or caused by a predator, perhaps? But this seemed far more ruthless than the predators that he was familiar with… How very queer.
@Pavetta
