Closed {Zeltiva} A Familiar Face [Lavine]

[Thayer]

Toril’s head was a bull trying to ram into the barrier that secluded him from the ring he was meant to run around in. He couldn’t comprehend all of Lavine’s words about what they had been doing after the part she had mentioned about playing hide and seek. The only words that played his heart strings were the words of how his sister was hurt.

“She’s hurt?” Toril gasped, too quietly that he hardly heard his voice over the wind that had suddenly started to pick up.

The sky was not only darkening from lack of sunlight as it faded through the filtering of the branches and leaves, but clouds started to roll in in both distress and discomfort. They looked sad and tired as they took over the sky at a frightening speed.

Lavine, still grasping Toril’s wrist, led him over to a black blob on the forest’s floor. She waved to the object before crouching down in front of it. He saw a pale nose, followed by long wisps of frightening familiar black hair, along with a vivid pallid cheek, of which Lavine soothingly trailed her fingers along in a motherly way of comfort.

Then Lavine looked at Toril with sullen eyes, heavy dark bags hanging solemnly underneath them. What did she want Toril to do? Pick her up and carry her back to the tent? Toril was no body builder and had never been a very strong guy; he’d only mentioned he was strong as to not make others think him as weak. He was a short, light-weight rabbit in a human’s form, and if that wasn’t enough of a disappointment, he had never grown up to be the fighter and hunter his father had pressured him into being.

Toril hung his head and shrugged his shoulders, losing his leadership attribute in the process, but he quickly picked up his head and threw back his shoulders. This was his sister that was lying helplessly on the ground! He needed to help her out, and would go to no end to make sure she was out of harms way and in a safe environment. But then he took a glance over his shoulder to see a bloody, mutilated dark body settled in a restless heap on the ground.

“What is that?” Toril shouted as he blinked his eyes rapidly, hardly helping conceal his startled actions. He practically jumped a few feet in the air at the sight of a dead corpse covered in red fluid near him. He instinctively glared at the person who he saw look guilty.

“Lavine, what the hell!?” He was rightfully put in his place when his sister announced the murder was her doing as a selfless act of defence to save both her friend as well as her own life.

A crack of thunder ceased Toril’s anger and dithering thoughts of punishment. They were trying to ward themselves off from harm’s way, but he still was terribly confused as to why they had to end the life of someone when his father had taught Thayer how to defend herself through a defensive position instead of an offensive one.

The first drops of rain pattered on Toril’s nose, now starting to dampened themselves from natural salty tears. He was going to have to pick up her bloody, broken sister and lug her the whole way back to the tent.

“Alright, Lavine, you grab her feet,” Toril sighed as he bent down to Thayer’s head, cautiously placing one hand underneath her head and the other underneath her shoulders so that he cradled her in the crook of his arm. He groaned at the weight as he lifted her off the ground.

“Geez Thayer, have you been eating too many dried berries?” Toril joked as he tried to lightened the dark mood that had sheltered of all hearts.

He took a hesitant glance into the forest to see branch after branch, leaf after leaf of obstacle; there was no tent in sight and rain was threatening to hail down upon them.

Toril looked into the eyes of his sister’s best friend and spoke determinedly, “We need to hurry.”

[Lavine]

The damp and darkening sky didn't help either of their spirits. Knowing Toril was bound to be short on patience at the moment, Lavine grabbed Thayer's feet as she had been told. Her back and arm muscles pulled taut, causing an ache in her already injured hand, but she ignored it. Thayer was the important thing here, not her.

Together, Toril and Lavine stumbled through the heavy growth of plant life. Thayer gave her input often, moaning when they tilted her the wrong way or when she was jostled too much. In a way, Lavine thought, it's rather nice to be able to do this. Sure, the weather was terrible, her best friend was injured, and her own body cried from exhaustion, but then there was Toril.

Lavine couldn't help but admire his physique. Although it felt wrong, she allowed herself, just this once, to slip into a daydream-like state. Whenever Toril tugged Thayer one way or the other, his normally thin face knitted itself together in concentration. It was hard to tell whether sweat or mist laced his body, but something gave his arms a slippery appearance. She wanted to wipe it away, to comfort the man, but she restricted herself to watching him work.

His curly dark hair continuously fell into his sapphire eyes until he brushed it back with a strong looking hand. Whenever he stumbled, stubbed his toe on a branch, or something of the sort, he would curse softly to himself. Some were hard to hear, others not so much.

Lavine could just imagine him whispering her name softly, in that same voice he used now. She could almost feel that strong hand running up and down her arm, warding off the Winter cold as they sat by the fire. Toril's face would be lit up so she could easily see his expression, intent on her words as she wove him some tale of their adventures together. He would laugh in his shy way and twitch his tiny button nose, his cold blue eyes warming just for her. She would tweak the hare-ish nose teasingly and then pull back out of reach. Lavine would smile, maybe cock her head as she tended to do, and Toril would lean just a little closer...

All too soon, they were back at the tent. Trying her best to move slowly, Lavine let Thayer's bottom half rest on the ground. She could feel the heat pulsing in her cheeks when she thought of meeting Toril's gaze after her own thoughts. You can't be thinking like that. He's Thayer's brother for crying out loud! Instead, she trained her eyes on the heavy, bloody girl, practically staring. Her arms swayed loosely at her sides as she watched a tiny droplet of water run it's path down Thayer's side. The droplet wasn't so much a promise of rain as a threat.

"So uh, do you want me to find her backpack or maybe some herbs before it rains on us? I can do whatever you need me to." Even to her own ears, it sounded desperate, but since she had no other choices, she let the offer hang in the air. After all, desperate times call for desperate measures, and boy were these desperate times.

[Thayer]

Toril laced arms with his sister, his holding up hers, placed underneath her arm pit. He continued staring straight ahead as he continued to trek through the mountain-like terrain. His mind was plagued by many raging thoughts, each one bubbling up in an angry boil, wanting balanced time of ponder. Flashbacks came and went as Toril was forced to relive the good times whilst living through the bad. He felt mere like a wolf in sheep’s clothing; his usual strong, subtle manly-hood now abolished, replaced by the fearful, exasperated young boy from so long ago.

Thayer laughed, her eyes brightening as Toril spoke his joke about being a teacher when he grew up. He hated trying to pretend to be patient, and he had a strong disliking for immature disrespect so many children these days had, and all family members knew that.

Thayer’s black hair started to fall in her eyes, but Toril let it fall. She looked beautiful when her crystalline eyes glowed from underneath the shroud of dark veils. But Toril couldn’t help but glance at his sister’s friend, her small form reminding him much like a glass figurine, her eyes like the autumn sky, soft amber hues rippling from intense pleasure.

Toril cleared his throat as he watched her eyes smoulder in excitement. She sat across from him and his sister, the fire their only barrier. Her parents were off to the right, enjoying a friendly conversation with his own parents.

“My parents used to teach me how to brave,” Toril enthused, cooing ever so slightly, his mild teenage boy seduction directed toward Lavine. “But sometimes us tough boys get scared and need a hand to hold.”

He saw Lavine blush, her eyes darkening in both admiration and self-conscious desires. Thayer leant closer to her friend, becoming yet another girl whom sat across from Toril near the fire.

Toril looked away as he caught the uncomfortable, confused expression of the Kelvic bird. He didn’t have feelings for her, he couldn’t. She was his sister’s friend and that was what it was going to remain at. Labels were only broken when replaced or broken, and never will Thayer be replaced or broken apart from this small family all Kelvic had made with one another.

Toril shook his head from side to side, clearing his head, and blowing away the clouding memories. A sudden sharp pain crept into his poorly protected foot, having him first lose balance with his hold on his stagnant sister to look down at his recent injury. A small stick was sticking out of the side of his foot, having made an obvious tripping hazard.

The wind started to pick up, brusquely pressuring the two beings to hurry up their work with carrying the injured lynx. Toril couldn’t help but take a moment’s break to glance up at the sky through glazed eyes. He was far too tired to carry out the rest of this tedious lifting, but he continued, absentmindedly pushing the pain and the fatigue and the bad memories outside his priority list.

“To hell with this petching weather,” he mumbled, his face contorting as though he were a fish sucking for food or for more wondrous water to breathe.

Suddenly, as though the gods thought they’d be nice to give the two kids a break, the tent appeared from behind a few branches and bushes.

“Thank the gods and the heavens above,” Toril sighed as he hurried into the tent, not minding the mud that followed suit, making home to the partial warmth and comfort of shelter. Lavine followed as well, setting down Thayer’s head in the most gentle way she could muster through her numb fingers and shaking body.

Toril acknowledged her next words by nodding his head and stating what he needed. “From what I remember, Sage is an important key plant in a nature environment,” he racked his brain for the memory of what the herb looked like, “the flowers are most commonly a lavender colour, with the leaves a grey-green, uh, no,” Toril stuttered. He had totally went blank on what Sage’s appearance was. Many people found it easy to mistake Oregano for Sage, so Toril thought it best to send Lavine out in search of a different plant to help his sister.

“I want you to go out and try to find Catnip. Remember all those silly stories our parents used to tell us about how they were bad for cats? Thayer used to get nightmares, well, now I need you to collect me some Catnip.” Toril remained calm as he gathered a winter blanket and positioned Thayer so that she was some what comfortable.

“Catnip has greyish-green foliage. It’s a small, two-lipped flower that’s mainly white with finely spots the colour of a pale purple to pink. They smell very good, but I wish you much luck seeing as how they grow from late spring to early autumn, yet it isn’t late spring yet.”

Lavine nodded her head in understanding as she stood up from her crouched position near her injured mate. She was near exiting the tent when several other things happened to cross his mind.

“Wait!” he shouted after her. “There is another plant that can help her as well. If I recall correctly the plant is called Hyssop Mint. It’s good for soothing headaches and body pain as well as does it fight nausea, calms the stomach and reduces nervousness and fatigue. It will also help Thayer’s wounds as it acts as a disinfectant, antiviral herb. It’s a brightly coloured shrub that ranges from 30 to 60 cm in height. The stem is a woody base, from which grow a number of straight branches. The leaves, they are a dark green in colour, and they aren‘t very big. It might be too early to tell, but the plant produces many pink, blue or white fragrant flowers during the early summers.”

Toril sighed with a large dose of defeat intertwined in his voice before continuing, “Just try to find anything that looks healthy.”

He then left Lavine to get to work searching out the forest for herbs, flowers and plants. Toril had no clue what he was in for; he only knew the basics about treating people with the medical uses plants and herbs had in them. He sighed and sent a cold and clammy hand through his curly, matted, black hair.

This was going to be a hell of an experiment.

[Lavine]

Lavine rushed from the tent, eager to get away from Toril. Not that she wanted to stay away, in fact it was the exact opposite. She was afraid of what she might do if she stayed. So, as quickly as she could, she scampered into the open air.

All around her, trees, vines, and bushes climbed over the soft earth. She hadn't a clue where to start. The one she remembered the clearest, Hyssop mint, sounded like her best bet. Lavine tried to recall Toril's description, but it was all so muddled. Pink, blue or white flowers, dark green leaves...or was it greyish? Already, the descriptions blended in her mind. She trampled through the undergrowth for what seemed like ages before she found a few shorter plants growing in a small patch. The leaves were indeed dark green, but no had no flowers, only miniscule buds. The edges of the leaf looked serrated, as though someone had taken a jagged knife to them.

Lavine felt the leaves gently before plucking a few. They looked like a mint from the few she had seen before, but then those had been dried and used for very different reasons. After a brief hesitation, she pulled off a few of the more developed buds. They were almost like flowers; who knew what help they might be.

On her way back, Lavine stepped on a few more healthy looking herbs. These too, looked jagged like mint, but had a slightly rounder look to the tiny leaves. The sprouts were only a couple inches tall at most, but she pulled them up anyway. If this was indeed the precious catnip, she would feel terrible having passed up the opportunity to take it back with her. The wet dirt came away with the shoots when she tugged them up. She shook the sprouts in an attempt to fling the dirt away, but to no avail. One more to go. Was it...sage?

She gave the forest floor another quick glance, but could feel every spare chime ticking away. Her need to return to her best friend ate away at her stomach until she could take it no longer. With the assumed Hyssop mint and baby catnip in hand, she made her way back to the tent. Never fear Thayer! Toril and I are going to fix you right up. Or, she hoped so.

[Thayer]

Toril saw the girl leave the tent, her auburn hair swaying behind her back in loose curls and long waves, Her couldn’t help but feel partially guilty for the Kelvic bird. She had just found her long lost friend after years of struggling in search of her, and she had just suffered a few wounds only to watch the friend she thought she lost in pain and discomfort. Toril had commanded her to find him necessary plants with medical properties in a harsh cold tone, and only he could feel guilty for adding to her personal displeasure.

He couldn’t dwell on that matter for long however, as a pale hand nearly swatted his face. “Toril,” it’s body moaned, until out sought the face of its keeper.

“Lavine is getting your medicine, Thayer,” Toril whispered to his ill sister before he began to search her nude body for the location of damage.

He first observed her face, for it was covered in blood, yet he was unable to find the source of the liquid, so he moved onward to other problems. He observed her shoulders next, finding that the main wound was there. He walked over to the bucket of water he had stored for the occasion of washing hands before meals and dipped in part of his winter blanket. He then went back over to his patient and started to dab away the excess blood, careful to not dab at the wound precisely.

He noticed that the injury wasn’t as deep as he had first made assumptions of, in fact, it was not in such a consequential area that it had only severed through the infraspinatus muscles of the shoulders connection to the chest. A few veins might have been punctured, resulting in the abnormally high amount of bleeding, but overall, only muscle was stabbed through, resulting in a hole approximately 2 inches deep and only an inch in diameter.

Toril sighed as he realised the damage wasn’t as bad as he had just thought. He then continued to wipe away the blood as he lulled happy things to his littler sister.

“You’re going to be just fine, Thayer,” he cooed as Thayer’s squinted eyes opened up to look into her brother’s bright blue ones. “You’ll be just fine and we’ll make sure that you’ll be good as new.”

Thayer’s eyes drew closed rapidly, worrying Toril, but settling his rampant nerves when he realised she was either extremely exhausted or just growing unconscious from the amount of blood loss or extreme feeling of the pain that coursed through her veins.

“Sleep tight, little sister. Lavine should be back soon with your medicine.” Toril’s eyes continued to sway to the closed tent screen, hoping that his sister’s friend would pop through with everything he’d asked for, and even more. But she never did.

“I hope.”

[Lavine]

Lavine felt slightly embarrassed as she shuffled back with the tiny crop in hand. Hard as she tried, there simply wasn't anything to work with out here. Thick, dark leaves sprouted everywhere, but as she was unsure of what herbs looked like, she was horrified that she might pick something poison. Some of the branches she shouldered past were sharp, causing red marks on her skin. On one twig, the sweet, sugary smell of sap invaded her nose, causing a slight cough. With her breath recaptured, she took a closer look at the stuff.

It was thick, dark amber, and incredibly sticky. It was defiantly the source of the sweet aroma, almost so strong it was suffocating, especially when she rolled a bit between her fingers. On a whim, she pulled off a dollop of the sap about the size of her thumb and stuffed it into the leafy wrap. It wasn't much, but it made her feel slightly better, knowing she had contributed some to the cause.

From the moment she saw the spot of color in the distance, she started to run. The tent was so close, and inside it, Thayer and Toril. The ground was uneven and rough, but she had a life or death situation on her hands. There was no time to stumble over the landscape. By the time Lavine reached the tent, she was nearly out of breath. She allowed herself the luxury of a deep sigh before pushing into the tent.

"Toril? Thayer?"
They were both right there, Toril running his thin hands over her tiny body. He looked solemn, and for a heartbeat, Lavine was afraid she was too late. Through the panic, she was able to see Thayer's chest twitch ever so slightly in a labored breath. A sigh of relief escaped Lavine and she handed her hand's content to Toril.

"I've got a tiny bit of baby catnip, some Hyssop mint, and some sort of sap." Her shoulders lifted, then relaxed quickly in a shrug. "It looked healthy and smelled bad. Isn't that what defines herbs?"
It was easy to tell her humor was wasted on the cold audience by the zoned-out look on Toril's face and Thayer's unintelligible grunts. Maybe I'll tell them some other time, when people aren't injured.

[Thayer]

Luckily Lavine returned in a flash, Toril’s heart no longer racing in anxiety and his morbid thoughts ceasing to exist.

The young girl, hair matted to her forehead, her eyes wild and filled to the brim with fatigue, handed over the few some herbs she had collected from the dormant forest outside. She need not apologise for the minimum supplies she had returned with, for it was still the beginning of spring. Many plants weren’t growing quite yet, yet she had still managed to come across some essential flowers.

“Thank you very much, Lavine,” Toril spoke in appreciation, his fingers trailing Lavine’s longer than he’d expected. A hint of a blush blossomed on both children’s faces until Toril mustered up enough courage to end the discomfort between them.

“Well then, Lavine,” Toril croaked as he walked over to a part on the floor that had a bedroll that wasn’t being in use. The one Thayer was laying on had become bloody and dirty with the mud and other foreign materials that weren’t needed. “I will need for you to help me. Help me heal our sister.” He said sister in a tone that crept inside both Kelvics’ hearts and played with their emotions.

Toril set down the herbs before smiling at the humour he had forgotten to recognise by his friend, Lavine. Funny, indeed. Toril thought it best to try using Catnip first. From what he remembered from his father, when applied to the skin directly, the nutrients and antibacterial materials inside the root and underside of the flower could help aid in the reduction of swelling as well as bleeding. He thought it best to try to stop his sister’s incessant bleeding as well as reduce the amount of swelling that had occurred from the aftermath of the wound itself.

“Lavine,” Toril announced, ushering over the small, frightened child so that she sat next to him, curiously. “I want you to cut up this plant so that you have the roots on one side of the bedroll and the leaves on the other. Then, I want you to cut up the roots into the smallest pieces you can as well you should do the same to the leaves.”

Toril scooted over to the side to give his medical companion some room. Whether she knew anything about Herbalism and medicine or not, she was going to help him.

“And when you’re done with that, I want you to put the cut up herb into the bucket of water I have over there so that they all clump together.” Hopefully what he was saying was right. Sure, Toril knew what he was doing, but when under times of extreme pressure, any doctor or herbalist expert would become doubtful of their abilities.

“If they clump together, the water will have brought out the nutrition of the applicant for Thayer’s wound. I then want you to place the material onto Thayer’s wound. It serves as an antibacterial, antiviral so if it gets into her wound too bad, it should help not hurt.”

His words sounded forced, like he was trying to sound tough with the hold of major authority, but the thing was, Toril wasn’t sure what he was doing anymore. His own sister was laying in pain on the gods damn bedroll for crying out loud! His head pounded, which he in turn soothed with his pointer fingers digging ever so slightly into his temples.

He then proceeded to working with the Hyssop mint, letting his little apprentice go off on her own. She needed to learn how to be responsible, take a self act in leadership and learn a few things about Herbalism. This was a great experience for all of them, whether they knew it or not yet.

Toril perked up, realising that he had to make tea with the Mint Hyssop he had been absentmindedly staring at from a far. He grabbed the bunch of herbs, stuffing them into his back pocket, stopping to collect his sister’s flint and steel from within her backpack before launching himself out into the wilderness’s air. It was humid, and misty, the clouds darkening ever second he stood stalling.

He went behind the tent to retrieve the few blocks of wood he had cut up a while ago, grabbed them and soon placed them in the fire pit in the front. He went to the back of the tent again, in order to collect a few fallen leaves he’d found their earlier. He scooped them up in a small, yet muscular hand, before throwing them onto the fire.

Toril’s eyes were cold, and he had no doubt they had stopped glistening and had turned to dark orbs of cold blue ice. He was frightened, but mainly angry. How could he have been so stupid to let his sister be so vulnerable in the wilderness like that? He had almost lost his sister to a bandit, whom had merely killed her, yet he sat idly by in the tent, chopping wood for future use. As if there’d be a future! He was certainly lucky that the bandit had terrible aim, or else he would have hunted down the bastard out of cold revenge and dishonourable hatred.

Getting back to the topic that was found most important, Toril remembered from learning his father’s actions when he was little, how to start a fire with only the use of flint, some steel and a few blocks of lumber.

He struck the wood, continuously he tried, until finally it lit, setting first the leaves a flame before they caught the lumber’s attention.

He did not know if Lavine had down her part in making the catnip treatment for Thayer, but he really did need the bucket of water she was going to use for his herbal tea to treat body pains, fatigue and anxiety.

[Lavine]

Lavine's hands shook visibly as she patted the nearby ground in search of her backpack. Once her hands found what they had been looking for, Lavine pulled the pack onto her lap. Her hands delved into the depths of fabric until she felt the hard, cold handle of her eating knife.

Pulling it out, she shoved her pack aside. With her left hand, she held the pieces of catnip still on the bedroll, while making slow, soft cuts with the knife in her right hand. The smell of the herbs filled the tent and calmed her until she hardly thought. Just cut, gather in a pile and cut again. Nothing to it. Is this all herbalism is? As she worked, her mind swam with all of the memories, still trying to be accepted after the fast-paced events of the day.

Speaking of memories. Lavine held out her injured hand, trying to get a feel for how bad the scar would be. Actually, it might not be so bad. The wound, while still red and swollen, was considerably better looking in the relaxed atmosphere of the tent. Only feeling a twinge of guilt, Lavine pulled the water bucket closer so she could splash some water on it. The blood ran down the sides of her hand and off onto the floor, creating a watery, red puddle by her foot. She watched for a bit, fascinated by the beauteous color.

Taking a deep sigh, she returned to her work. Dropping the catnip mush into the bucket, she swirled the mixture around. The catnip clumped onto the side of the bucket, just as Toril had told her. Unsure of what to do next, she reached in and pulled out the glob of herbs. Remembering only that it was an ointment, she rolled the mixture in her palm until it was a thick paste.

With the paste oozing between her fingers, she crawled over to Thayer. Her naked body was thin and frail looking, as if a breath might blow her away. Careful not to make too much noise, Lavine took hold of the girl's shoulder and lifted. With the wound exposed, she added a spot of the ointment onto her skin. Thayer made a quiet noise of discomfort, but any clear words died on her lips. The paste looked disgusting to Lavine in the first place but when it began mixing with whatever fluid was leaking from Thayer's wound, Lavine had to look away.

Lavine looked nervously to the doorway, hoping Toril would come back soon. There was no way she could be sure she was doing it right. Although Toril may not know any better, she would still feel better if someone was there with her. Especially Toril...

[Thayer]

Thayer

Thayer watched as he friend put a smelly, wet substance onto and into her body, her wound the important facto in this point of time. A feeling of pain spread throughout her arteries at the initial touch of the paste, but the discomfort soon ebbed away at the relaxation of the cold water and its helpful properties.

“Lavine,” Thayer sighed as she looked into her friend’s amber orbs. “Toril said that it isn’t that bad. Is it true? I feel really bad, but I guess that was just shock before, and now the initial pain.”

The question wasn’t much of a question, more a statement that needed to be heard by Thayer’s own ears. Her mind was blurry, her thoughts crazed, her head spinning on an axis of undefined coordinates and she couldn’t tell whether she was dreaming or not.


Toril

Toril began to grow anxious, as well as bored, before he got up from sitting near the growing fire and strode into the tent. Firstly, he noticed his sister lying bare on the bedroll in the middle of the tent’s tarp flooring, along following the visual of Lavine, tending to her friend’s wounds with the proper paste he had succumbed to telling her how to do.

“Very well done,” Toril praised her, having her jump in unexpected surprise from his deep, tender voice. “I’ll need to borrow this bucket of water if you don’t mind,” he continued, grabbing the sides of the bucket full of water with both hands, after stuffing the Hyssop mint deeper into his pocket as well as the cold, mildy-frozen sap.

He knew that the liquid had been contaminated by the ingredients in the catnip, but he didn’t mind. It wasn’t that bad if you mixed two health benificial plants together, for it merely added extra strength to whatever concoction you were trying to create.

He lugged the heavy tub outside before placing into the centre of the fire, watching the flames erupt in anger for being interrupted by a foreign element, an enemy of its own kind. Toril shrugged as he watched the water bubble, the idea of a boil becoming obvious and accurate.

The scene reminded him of his heart, exploding in pure rage, hatred of the beast who had hurt both his friends, both his sisters. He wanted revenge as badly as Thayer wanted to get up and play again, but he knew he couldn't have it, and neither could Thayer. She would get much rest, much recooperation time before going on yet another adventure. He would give you two weeks at minimum before she even left the tent for exploration.

But he still couldn't help but think back at Lavine and how all of this might have been her fault...

After noticing the harsh pops the water had made, Toril then shredded the leaves of the Hyssop Mint with his bare hands and grated the sides of the root with his nails after retrieving it from within the depths of his pocket. He then threw them into the heated pot in the centre, the action much like he was roasting marshmallows.

He grabbed a stick close to him, brushing off the excess dirt, bark and grass before sticking it into the pot of herbs and hot water. He then began to stir, occassionaly eyeing the tent in both suspicion and apprehension only to return his attention back to the herbal tea he thought would help heal his only sister.


Thayer

“Lavine,” Thayer whispered, reaching her hand out to grab a hold of her friend’s sleeve. “Are you alright?” She had noticed the swollen, red clump of extra flesh that had manifested the normal complexion of the young girl. “I remember you getting cut by that bastard. Are you alright?”

Thayer could hear her friend’s reply, but that didn’t mean she could comprehend what was being said. She was in a state of both panic, hysteria, exhaustion as well as intense pain and all that she was able to think about at the moment was cinnamon.

How she had adored cinnamon back in Ravok when she was a simple child. She loved both the taste and the smell and ate it whenever her family had it available. It reminded her of many things, some of which were hard to put a finger on, yet she knew deep inside her mind and imaginative thoughts she knew what they were to be.

Cinnamon. Lavine. Toril. Ravok. Cinnamon.

Sweet, beloved family.

[Lavine]

Lavine chuckled softly at her friend's worried expression. More for her own benefit than Thayer's, Lavine spoke aloud whatever was on her mind.
"I'm fine, Thayer. You'll be fine too. See, we've got these herbs here that I gathered and Toril's going to make them into medicine. Once we get you some rest you'll be good as new." She knew it was a lie; Thayer would need at least a week of rest before she would be recovered again, but it felt more reassuring to lie.

"Are you hungry? I bet I could get us some food, huh?" The question was meaningless. Thayer was clearly not in her right mind anymore. Her eyes were half closed, her lips playing with something close to a smile, and her cheeks were a rosy pink. Lavine placed her good hand against Thayer's forehead to check for a fever, but it seemed fine.

Still, I'd better warn Toril. "I'll be right back Thayer, will you be ok?" Lavine didn't wait around to hear the response. Rather, she wiped her hands on her backpack and found her way outside.

Toril was standing by a pleasant looking fire, holding his herbs as though he wanted to grill them. His face looked so deep in thought, Lavine didn't want to disturb him. She thought he would rather be disturbed though, than let his sister come down with a fever.

"Toril?" His blue eyes spun towards her, paying her the utmost attention. Lavine cleared her throat before starting again.
"Toril, I was heading out to hunt, but I wanted you to be on the lookout while I'm gone. I think we should be extra careful from now on. Thayer's cheeks are really rosy and I'm worried about a fever."

Lavine quickly turned her head down so she didn't have to look Toril in the face. She was too scared to see the smoldering anger she knew would be present on his face. That grief and anger had been there far too long for Lavine's taste. Why is it that good things never happen to good people? We deserve some luck, I would think!