Across the Sea [Viper]

[Litani]

Timestamp: Night of the 25th day of Summer season, 513 I am here, now. The mantra whispered across her mind as her body tried to melt into the bed beneath her. It wasn't helping. For long hours, the Konti lay awake in the darkness. There was no storm, there were no words nor footsteps, there was only the quiet of the Pearl House in silent repose. There were also no answers, and no response. She had never known there could be such quiet - so quiet, such silence in totality, she felt at times that its weight could crush her. Syliras was never so quiet, nor Zeltiva. On nights like this, in the scant few weeks that she'd been in Riverfall, she'd sometimes gone out to the Suvan and walked the shore. She'd talked to Laviku. She'd prayed to Rak'keli. She'd talked to her father. Silence. Restless in the shadows, she turned over in a near-thrashing movement and sighed her frustration against her pillow. At least I don't have anywhere pressing to be tomorrow, she thought to herself bitterly. I don't have anywhere pressing to be... ever. The thought seemed to truncate itself. I don't have anywhere. As final as the thought was, it was true. She'd left a promising, if tense, apprenticeship with one of the few people to ever show her kindness. She told herself - and him - that she was Called to leave. She thought she was. She honestly did. Or did I tell myself to think that? Petching hells, I don't know! I'm such a fool... All she'd known was that her father was dead and she wanted, more than words were capable of expressing, to see him again. But that was not possible. Never possible. In exchange, she'd contented herself with the idea of seeking his ghost in Riverfall, walking the streets where he'd walked, hoping to meet a slice of family or friend that she had not previously known... Anything, really. Anything to feel close to him again. But it had been, thus far, for nothing. Instead, all she'd found was threat and frustration, a paradise of a city with nothing but hollow echoes. She'd wanted so much for it to be home...! Alone in the darkness, she found solace in solitude at last and the heated sting of furious emotion started to bite at the backs of her eyes. In that moment, she hated herself absolutely - for her stupidity, for her stubbornness, for her refusal to believe anything but the best of others... even though it had cost her so much. Fool! Her inner monologue, never a kind voice, took the opportunity to go on an absolute tirade and before she knew it, she was crying herself to sleep. There was no help for it, it simply was. I am mourning, she told herself, trying to console the aching part of her that would be forever empty. It is a natural part of mourning, it will always hurt and it will never get better... what did Rask say? 'It never gets better, you only get used to it.' ...I don't want to get used to it!! Knowing that none would come for her, knowing that she could not be heard and would trouble no other soul, Litani wept deep and passionately, letting everything she'd felt for weeks before come crashing into her mind all at once... It did not take long to exhaust her. ----- She heard... something. Some voice. Some words. Something, calling for her. Blackness and formlessness swirled around her, half-dreams and images fading in and out of consciousness as grief turned to fitful sleep, turned to the vivid worldscape within. Alder! It was Alder's voice. ...or was it? She felt pulled, restless and groundless, pulled back to Syliras, pulled across the Sea of Grass and across the impossible distance. Back 'home'. And then, in an instant, she felt the rough grass beneath her feet, the wind on her skin and in her hair, the sun boring down into her mind. The Sea...? The Sea of Grass, certainly, for no comforting lull of Laviku met her senses, only the unmoving steadiness of ground which did not shift. Litani glanced around, uncertain, yet in the dream she felt... calm. Sort of. There were others with her - travelers. Tents. Horses. A painted wagon. And there was her Gildling, Ansem, at graze. They had stopped for the dying day to pass. Sunset bled through her eyes in tones of scarlet and gold, painting the sky and reckless throwing shadows across the ground. She stood at the edge of their make-shift campsite, looking out across the vastness. There were horseclans here, she knew. Glassbeaks and Ziths and gods only knew what else. And the Drykas. The sound of moving water caught her attention. A river nearby, perhaps. And then, as dreams will do, the scene shifted to find her standing at the bank of a small river, Ansem at her side, both Konti and Gildling drinking from the same stream. She knelt, he standing gracefully, as horses do. And then there was a sound. Startled, Ansem looked up, followed closely in attentiveness by his mistress. The horse stamped and backed off slightly and Litani's hand snapped up to his reins, holding him close but rising to her feet.

[Viper]

It had been another long day in the great fortress city of Syliras. The hustle and bustle of the many throngs of people going here and there was always enough to make Viper's head spin just a bit. Having lived in the open plains for most of his life, where one could go for days without seeing a single solitary soul. The cramped, by his standards, quarters the city offered felt so stifling at times he just needed to take a breather outside the great walls. And now was as good a time as any.

Passing through the city gates, he gave his customary nod to the guards posted there, and rode on to his tiny camp. Sitting there just far enough away from the walls so as to avoid any of the guards above throwing things at him in jest in the middle of the night, and hidden behind several large bushes to avoid being seen by anyone not specifically looking for it, lay his tent. And a welcome sight it was. Although not nearly as comfortable or safe as renting a room inside the city would be. Viper found his more out of the way campsite to be an excellent place to unwind. Besides. It saved his precious mizas which would otherwise be spent on lodging.

After removing the saddle from his beloved strider, Viper took a seat and got a fire going. The tiny flames flickered to life and began to grow as they consumed the twigs and branches he had placed in there. Finally he could crash on the ground and relax. He flexed his sore muscles and lightly messaged his shoulder as he recalled the day of sparring with Septimus and other squires. Man did they enjoy kicking his butt when it came to swordplay. Still he usually got the last laugh once it was his turn to teach the bow. And in the end, he was only improving his technique.

Settling in, his became almost hypnotized by the flames as his body quickly succumbed to the prospect of a good nights rest. The soothing sound of the crackling fire only aiding in his quickly falling fast asleep...

-------

What seemed like only a second later, his eyes flickered open. They soon grew wide with surprise as he realized he wasn't at his camp site next to Syliras, but in fact was astride his trusty horse Aeyan in the middle of the Sea of Grass...back in his home territory of Cyphrus. But how...? He thought to himself. Suddenly next to him were several other Drykas riders. Why did they seem so familiar to him? A frown suddenly appeared on his face. A dream....this had to be a dream...actually more like a nightmare. For the last time he had seen these men where on the day after his wife and child were killed in a Zith attack.

The hair on the back of his head stood on end as the terrible feelings came pouring back into him. A sad sigh escaped his lips. Why this? Of all his memories...he really had to dream about this? But wait...something was different. Something wrong...changed. He and his war party had indeed followed the Zith in an attempt to destroy them. But they were never able to catch up. The raiding Zith had escaped and Viper had failed to avenge the murder of his wife and child.

Something now was changed. A rider soon approached. "Viper! Get ready to ride hard! We just found those bastards. But it looks like they are heading in the direction of a some travelers we also spotted a ways off. Quickly, we must intercept them first." A rare almost sadistic grin began to tug at the corners of Viper's mouth as he realized he might finally get his chance at revenge. It wouldn't bring his wife and child back...and in the end, he knew it was still just a dream...but maybe it would bring him some peace to finally finish what was left so long ago.

Back at the caravan where Litani was, her horse had indeed picked up the sound of imminent danger. For not even a second later after she had arisen to her feet did a large male Zith spring up from the grasses a short distance on the other side of the river. He was immediately followed by several others who all let out battle cries as they took to flight to close the remaining distance between them, the caravan, and Litani.

Farther away, Viper led his fellow Drykas at full speed on their faithful Striders to try to come to the aid of the travelers before it was too late...

[Litani]

Dusk. The time of awakening. Things of the dark came alive whilst things of the day flagged... and sons of the Valterrian hungered while daughters of Laviku slept. In the twilight of dreamscape, Litani stood on the riverbank, vigilant but scared, when suddenly they appeared. Eyes wide, starting as fiercely as her horse, the Konti felt every muscle in her body snap tense as the hunters made themselves known to their quarry. Her insides went cold and her skin flushed, her breath shallowed and her heart raced as her mind struggled with what it should do. There was nothing... I have nowhere...! Blood raced through her veins and adrenaline came alive in her flesh as she saw their wings unfurl, their eyes stare at her... In some snarled language that she did not understand, they called to each other and advanced, knowing the river between them as nothing more than something else to fly over - no barrier at all. In a heartbeat, they seemed to be upon her, leaving her barely time to turn and try - fumbling, failing - to mount her horse and ride away... She felt them, felt their hands on her body, pulling at her clothes, heard their voices, smelled them close!, felt them drag her down from her saddle --and then suddenly felt one fall away, kicked and screaming, wounded from Ansem's response. The loyalty of the Gildling bought her precious seconds but the rushing fear in her mind confused her, left her caught between reaching for the Suvai in her pack and running away... And then she heard Ansem cry out as he was struck. On the opposite side of the creature, one of the hunting party had reached for her steed, clawed into his side, sent him rearing back and nearly knocked Litani flat with his visceral response. She had only a half-breath to pull a Suvai free from her saddle before Ansem settled, trying in his clumsy way to kick and bite, himself struggling with the instinct to fight or to flee. The desperate pair clearly meant to protect one another, and both had the will, but neither had the training. Dimly, somewhere in the back of her mind, Litani's thoughts froze and she felt the surreality of the dream that she was in. Some part of her guessed, but did not know, that she was dreaming. Not real... not real!! notrealnotrealnotreal...wake... no... not... But that part was so far away, so distant from the sweat of fear and the stench of Zith skin that she could not reach it... too far. Too far. In the dream, she screamed, crying out to alert the rest of her companions: "GUARD!! They are upon us! ...Zith! Zith!" Rak'keli have mercy. Rak'keli have mercy. Laviku smile upon me...! I am so sorry... Her back to the shimmering, stamping Gildling, the crouched Konti forced a breath into her lungs. Suddenly, everything went cold and crystal - emotion fled and fury rose in its place, left her screaming fiercely at the raiding party that threatened her. If she was going to die - and there was little she could do for that, for a warrior she was not - at least she would not do so passively. "You want me...? COME FOR ME." ...and there was no doubt that they would.

[Viper]

The Zith fanned out as they swooped in to attack the people before they could get themselves situated and prepared to defend against such a sudden and swift attack. The sounds of battle quickly broke out as men and Zith crashed into each other. Some trading sword strikes while an unfortunate few were picked up and flown into the sky, just to be dropped back to the ground with a crunching thud as bones shattered and armor broke.

The leader of the raiding Zith who now faced off Litani flashed a disturbing smile right after she yelled her defiant remark. Not even bothering to fly, he simply started to walk briskly towards her, brandishing the fearsome claws on his hands and his mouth full of sharp teeth as he drew a dagger. A second Zith meanwhile was keeping her mount occupied as it tried to maneuver into a better attacking position against the wildly flailing animal.

The Drykas war party drew near as the gap between them quickly vanished. Viper could now make out the lead Zith. His eyes showed a terrible hatred in them even as his face scrunched into a angry scowl. But why was it not flying as they customarily do in their attacks? Then he saw it. A person standing him off defiantly. If the Zith was going to attack on ground, the person was probably either wounded or no soldier. Viper prodded his Strider Aeyan in an attempt to get as much speed as he could possibly coax out of his friend.

Several Drykas along with Viper then pulled their bows, quickly drawing arrows to fire into their flanks. The Zith had been so preoccupied with staging the attack on the travelers, they hadn't realized they had been followed by the war party. So when the Zith who had been kicked by Litami's mount finally rose back to his feet clutching his chest in pain and still gasping for air. His eyes grew practically to the size of dinner plates as he only then noticed the charging mass of horses and men thundering toward them at seemingly impossible speeds.

He was about to yell a warning to his fellow Zith when an arrow smashed into his chest and into the backs of his comrades, sending him tumbling to the ground once more. A now deafening war cry could be heard emanating from the charging warriors as they plowed through the water seeking with every fiber of their beings this chance to send these vile creatures to the void.

The Zith leader quickly turned to face the Drykas. Viper meanwhile had thrown his bow back across his shoulder and drawn his sword. His eyes now locked with those of the other leader, Viper rose to have his feet firmly planted on his saddle. Now being in a very vulnerable position, the Zith who was just a moment ago so sure of victory, extended his wings and attempted to make for the sky. But too late...

*Crash*

Viper having expected he would do just that, jumped from his mount right into his hated enemy, plunging his sword into his chest as they fell to the floor in a heap. But not before the Zith commander had stuck his dagger into Viper's Side.

The two wrestled for a few more moments for control of the dagger until the mortally wounded commander's body finally failed him. The stunned surviving Zith meantime took to the skies in retreat. One however refused to leave so quickly...

Abandoning his effort against Litani's horse, the last straggler lunged at Litani herself in an attempt to use her as a hostage for his escape and maybe yet still be able to take a prized Konti as a slave back to his people. Viper struggled to his feet, clutching his side as he watched for the second time in two days a Zith about to take hold of another women he was trying to protect…

[Litani]

The eyes of the Zith she faced were dark, powerful, strange... haunted. He smirked at her, sauntered toward her, saw her as valued property that he could easily claim. He ran his eyes over her and tilted his head slightly, considering... The Konti only responded by tightening the hold of her Suvai and crouching lower, ready to spring, like a cornered cat with its fur on end. And then a thousand things happened. The pounding of horse hooves shook the ground as the Drykas turned the hunters into the hunted. The leader turned, flinched, fell beneath the flying attack. The Drykas showed precisely the power and grace that the horseclans boasted of, leaping from his saddle to bear the Zith to the ground beneath his blade. Feral cries in every language filled her ears and Litani stumbled back away from them, scrambling towards something that seemed like safety. Ansem, for his part, entertained his Zith with amazing dignity. He bucked, he kicked, he lashed out to bite, he did everything that could be expected of a steed who knew nothing of battle or discipline. He knew only survival, and the survival of his mistress, and he knew them both to be in danger. For as ungainly as he was, he seemed to keep the Zith at bay... until said Zith abandoned the glittering creature for a prize infinitely more valuable. A Konti. All at once, again, Litani felt a blade at her throat... but this one was no idle threat. Harsh and unforgiving, it bit up into her neck and she felt blood carve its way through the healing scar there, the one left so recently by someone so different... Tightening his hold, the Zith snaked his arm around her body and grabbed for her opposite arm, effectively pinning the other arm against her torso. The one that held the Suvai. Hissing a bloodlusting defiance of his own, the Zith stared across the short distance at Viper and started to beat his wings. He meant, perhaps, to leave with the woman... The woman whose eyes, blinking, blue and clear as the summer sky, lighted on Viper. The woman whose golden hair brushed across her shoulders and tangled itself around her predator.... Down, down, by her hip, out of his sight, the Zith's captive still held a strangely curved and almost ornamental-looking weapon. It looked as though it were made from some kind of horn of an exotic sea creature - three strange, curved horns spiraling tightly against one another. And this kind of sea creature was singularly unkind to all but Laviku's children. The Zith slid his hand down her arm and took a strong grip near her elbow, intending to use the bones of her own body against her as he lifted her into the air, but that graceful weapon lowered itself alongside Litani's body, along the frame of the Zith, finding purchase in a usually strong place, scraping against the flesh of his outer thigh. Just a scrape, just a tender bite. Just... enough. Perhaps six or eight feet off the ground, suddenly Zith and Konti tumbled earthward, tangled together in a confusion of bat wings and blonde hair. With a tiny shriek, Litani drug herself to her feet and danced her way free of his hold, nearly dropping the paralyzing Suvai in the process but keeping white-knuckled hold of it as the rest of the color drained from her face... There, in the last of the dying sun, the scaled and sweating Konti stared first at the stricken Zith and then at the wounded Drykas who had so narrowly seen to her rescue. And, around her, the rest of the camp was seeing to their own aspects of the Zith assult... but her world was narrowed only to those three - four, if one counts the dead creature impaled upon Viper's sword. There, in the last of the sunset, she fell to her knees, swallowing terror and victory as her senses reeled.

[Viper]

Viper froze in his place for just a moment. Instantly the prior days events flashed through his mind as he locked in on the woman's eyes. She was obviously not his wife. But in the heat of battle, her blonde hair, blue eyes, and the fact that she was in the exact same situation as his deceased spouse, brought about a change in Viper's expression. Instead of eyes filled with nothing but anger and hate, eyes filled with loving concern and fear for her wellbeing. Instead of a scowl, a look of disbelief that this could possibly be happening again.

He shook his head to try and clear his mind as he dropped his sword and once again, drew his bow along with another finely crafted arrow. The arrow dropped into position almost instantly as Viper's trained fingers then pulled back and took aim at the Zith's head. It was a terribly dangerous shot which caused him to hesitate, even as she was being lifted into the air. Every foot she rose, lessened his chances that he could hit his mark. His teeth clinched tightly as he weighed his options trying to think quickly of a better way, all the while shifting his eyes from the Zith to the woman.

Something in her hand suddenly caught his attention. A blade of some sort! Could it be she had a plan of her own!? With a slight smirk, he gave a small nod to the woman and lowered his bow right as scraped the blade across the enemies leg causing them both to crash to the floor. The affect of her strike took him by surprise, for it did not look like a terribly devastating blow. But nevertheless, there they were in a heap of their own on the ground.

Viper quickly ran to her side and helped her away from the Zith who was now screaming something in his native language. Giving a quick look around to make sure he could leave her for just a moment, he bowed to her slightly. "You'll be ok. I promise...but I'll be right back." He said reassuringly, trying build some confidence back in her. Turning around, he walked back to the Zith who was now staring at him with all the hatred he could muster in a look. Standing over his paralyzed body, Viper spit in his face before once again drawing the arrow in his bow and loosing it into the Zith's face.

He at that moment let out a long sigh as he looked to the sky as his shoulders lowered, his back still to the woman. "That was for you my love. ...I'll miss you." He said in a tone barely louder than a whisper. Throwing his bow back over is shoulder and across his chest, he turned around and limped back to the woman having almost completely forgotten that he was in fact wounded too.

Kneeling down at her side, he looked into her almost haunting blue eyes with a caring expression once more. This time although his demeanor still shown the genuine concern from before. With him no longer picturing his spouse when he gazed upon her, it lacked the love that seemed to be behind it as well. "How are you? Are you hurt?" He asked quickly as his eyes drifted toward her neck and the small amount of blood trickling down. Before she could answer, he sighed and whistled a short tune. While Viper then awaited for her response, his horse trotted over.

[Litani]

The fall to the earth startled her, even as she expected and counted on it. The Zith lay stricken from the paralyzingly poisonous touch of the Suvai, motionless, helpless, yet still fury and murder shone in his eyes... and yet, torn, the heightened sense of Rak'keli's marked healer had her on her feet almost before Viper could get to her. She felt the Zith's wounds as keenly as she felt Viper's and found herself caught between which to attend to first. In truth, the Drykas' wound was much more serious and, having ascertained that, she turned her eyes to him... ...in time to realize what was about to happen. With a flinch, she saw the arrow sprout from the Zith's forehead, saw the black blood flood the ground, let the grisly image burn itself into her mind as real as anything of the waking world could ever be. There was no saving the Zith now, no matter what her intention was. Rak'keli, Mother, I tried! I am so sorry... I would have. I wanted... So transfixed was she, even if horrified, that when Viper's words wandered across her mind, she blinked as if she was suddenly surprised to see him there. She blinked, she stared at him - almost into him in a strange way - and then she remembered him. The wounded warrior. The one she had never seen before. His eyes, the look and feel of him, they were all strange and different... so unlike all else. So unlike... Unthinking, she reached out with one hand for his arm, skin to skin, laying the warmth of her palm near his elbow. The truth of his wounds clattered through her mind and she tightened her teeth against the pain of it, feeling where the Zith's blade had sliced into his body, separating layers of skin from muscle and the bone beneath. She could not heal the dead. And she could not heal herself. But this she could do. And with him... she felt only one. Thank the Gods. In the way that dreams can do, the images suddenly split and she found herself feeling almost as if she were remembering the last time she healed an Akalak - the two souls, the two voices, the two men inside one body. But yet here, before her, there was only one. Blessedly, mercifully, simply. Only one, but that one was in more than enough pain for two and would only worsen the longer she waited. A soft, Syliran curse escaped her lips and she completely ignored his words of concern for her, so deep and undivided was her concern for him. If she was bruised, she did not show it, and if she bled, she did not feel it. "Sit, please, stranger," she nearly whispered, speaking Common, her soft contralto murmuring tones of a Syliran accent. Light played across her features as the sun snuck down in the sky, lighting the tiny signatures of Laviku's making that traveled in delicate, scaled lines along the edges of her face and down along her arms... she was certainly Konti, but nothing of Mura sounded in her voice. Her delicately webbed fingers slid along his arm and gently but strongly encouraged him to let her closer to his wounded side, that she might look upon the flesh that needed her. And all this time, still in physical contact, her Gift played across her senses - she felt him tired, felt his body lonely, felt the beating of his heart start to slow, felt the hammering of mingled passions - both dark and light - coursing through him. Felt the ragged skin aching. "I am a healer... I can mend you, if you would let me." Her eyes returned to his, watching him, waiting for his acceptance, vaguely uncertain what she might do if he refused. The back of her mind prickled with the awareness of the possibility... she needed to heal him, Rak'keli required it. But what if he told her no...?

[Viper]

The touch of her hand took him by surprise. Despite the intensity of the situation, she seemed remarkably calm. Course, maybe that was just his perception of it. For as he continued to get a more detailed look at her, he began to notice she was something he had never seen before. Were those scales in place of skin throughout parts of her body? He pulled back slightly for a moment as he tried to make sense of it. Then a story gnawing at the back of his mind finally got him to recall a people to the far east. A rather elegant and beautiful race. He couldn't remember what they were called. But he was beginning to suspect the stories that he had always taken as the ramblings of a good imagination, were in fact true.

Then came her soft and gentle voice, asking him to sit. His head tilted to the side slightly as he regarded the woman with growing curiosity. A moment later, he slowly took a seat next to her. Strange, he thought. Wondering as to how he would recognize a Syliran accent from a people who were supposedly from farther away. The thought of her accent moved away from his thoughts when her arm began to slide down his arm and toward his wound. He flinched slightly, though he couldn't tell if it was from pain or simply her touch.

She then declared herself to be a healer and offered to treat his wound. His heart was indeed beginning to slow its pace, but the adrenaline still in his blood had him barely noticing the wound inflicted by the Zith. He glanced down at it for a moment and then back up to her. "You may...but you're first." For the first time a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He took her hand gently in his and slowly moved it back to her own space. Viper stood back up and pulled out of his saddle bag a bit of his cleaning solution and some bandages. Unbeknownst to her (at least as far as he knew), it was at this point in his life that he didn't really care about his own well being. He had just lost everything important to him. Twas probably the reason for that rather suicidal move he pulled earlier off his horse. In his mind, as long as he and his fellow Drykas achieved a victory and could make safe these people, he felt only in a very small way that he could maybe make up for his failure.

Sitting back down, he dipped a clean cloth in the solution and raised it toward her neck. Pausing for a moment he said in a friendly tone, "If I may..." and with that, moved in the rest of the way to clean up the cut left by that barbarians blade. His eyes shifted from hers to the cut a couple times while he worked. Soon the wound was clean, and he applied a small bandage to cover it up. "There....you're all set."

His smile was broken when one of his fellow Drykas came running up. Speaking in Pavi, he notified Viper of their victory having slain many Zith. He also mentioned they had arrived just in time. Unfortunately a couple of the travelers had been lost, but not nearly as bad as it could have been. A rather fake smile soon returned and he thanked the man for the report, again though in his native language Pavi. He let out a small sigh as in truth, vengeance did not nearly provide the comfort he thought it would have. Forcing the thoughts from his mind, he shook his head and looked back to the stranger.

Switching back over the common tongue he asked. "Well, if the offer is still on the table...I think I may just take you up on the healing now." he finished with a slightly pained chuckle. The adrenaline was beginning to wear off, and with it, his resistance to the pain of his wound.

[Litani]

She felt him looking at her. In the haze of the dream, she felt as though she could hear what he was thinking, even if she had no such ability in the waking world. To know the truth of another’s body came close, sometimes, if she knew the other well... but this was different, and it made her nervous. As she intended to see to his wounds, she felt him pull back. He must have seen. He won’t want... But then he surprised her and acquiesced, at least momentarily. ‘You’re first,’ he’d said. I’m...what? And then it became clear, if no less startling. She watched him cross the distance to his horse and fetch a small field dressing from his bag. In spite of herself, she breathed a short laugh - she couldn't remember the last time she’d been someone else’s patient, particularly for something so minor! She took a half-breath to speak, intending to shrug off the attention, intending to insist; absently, a hand reached up to her throat and came away both wet and scarlet, and only then did she consider her own state. His was not the only heart racing from the dreamed-reality of what had just happened and she hadn't even thought of how close the cut might be. As he came closer - and without an immediate task to focus her mind on - her slender, finely scaled hands started to shake. Badly. She clenched them together and took a deep breath, shook them out, tried to flex her fingers into relaxing, but the movement seemed only to propagate throughout her frame until she was shaking like a willow in a thunderstorm. Her eyes were calm and she nodded softly when he asked to see to her. She sat quietly and tilted her head back to let him work, flinching only briefly at the sting of the solution on her skin. Only the persistent tremors gave any indication that she was both restless and fearful, still very much on edge. From the corner of her eyes, she watched his face, watched him look back at her and then shift his gaze down to her throat. There, as if in tiny rivers flowing from the crown of her head, finely iridescent scales flanked both sides of her face and neck, cascading over her collarbones and disappearing beneath the linen of her shirt. They moved and danced with the sunlight as she breathed, trying to still the trembling, trying to calm her pounding heart. When at last he was done, she blessed the Gods for a chance to do her job and think of something else, anything else... something other than how terrifying it felt to be hauled into the air, prisoner to a savage. In the back of her mind, she wondered what was meant to become of her, had Viper not felled the leader. Had she not thought to grab her Suvai. ...food? A slave? Slain simply for sport...? What would the Zith have made of a creature so unique to the Sea of Grass as she? The voice of a Drykas shattered her morbid thoughts and brought her back to the body of the dream - they were talking, speaking in a language she did not understand, but the tone conveyed a sense of bloody victory, a sense of grim contentment. Viper seemed satisfied and turned back to her. “Yes,” she said, answering him too fast, nodding to his request for healing in a way that was meant to be comforting but wound up conveying more tension than serenity. At least the shivers of fear were slowing. She cleared her throat, vaguely aware of how she must look. “Yes,” she said again, this time more softly. “Of course.” A final slow breath brought back the healer’s mask. This time, her hands were even and steady. She beckoned to a place in the trampled grass, less than ideal but flat enough for what she needed to do. Kneeling there, she let him settle beside her and then, with the briefest glance to his eyes, she reached to the edge of his shirt and drew it up along his ribs to bare the suffering flesh to the sunlight. For a split second, she considered asking him to remove the garment, but she hesitated... Deciding against it for some unspoken reason, she simply brushed the cloth from her field of vision and asked him in a low voice to keep it held aside. The layers of skin and muscle showed more than enough damage to be wildly uncomfortable; such an injury, untreated in the feral grasslands, could easily be his death even if it did not threaten him in the immediate. “You are lucky,” she told him, daring a glimpse of his eyes again. “Now... relax, if you can... and breathe. This will not hurt,” She paused briefly, then said, “It will not hurt, but it may feel... unusual.” Her gaze fell away then and her eyes closed as she reached into herself, into her connection with Rak’keli... into him. It was a thing she'd done a thousand times before, but each time unique. Each time intimate. Her hands moved over his flesh almost like feathers, so light that she might seem to be afraid to touch him save for the gentle persistence of the touch, one on each side of the wound. If his ribs were sensitive, the sensation might almost tickle, but even as her eyes remained shut she felt acutely aware of him, feeling his every response. If his body shifted, so did hers to compensate. If he pulled away, she could follow. And everything in that moment crystallized behind her eyes with a whispered prayer... Rak’keli’s grace warmed her fingers, flushed through her veins and made her hands feel suddenly alive. In the very next instant, the purity of his cleansed skin started to knit itself together as if sewn by perfect and unseen hands, healing from the inside out, closing from the deepest parts of the cut to the surface of the skin. As easily as it was laid asunder, now it was made whole. After only a handful of moments, tiny eternities punctuated by wind and pain and soothing, her eyes came open again and she drifted back slightly, sighing gently under her breath. Her hands left his skin then and pulled his blood-stained shirt back over newly healed flesh, her work complete. In silence, she returned her eyes to his.

[Viper]

"You're lucky", she said. A smirk flashed across his face which had begun to go pale from the blood loss. "You sure?" He replied in a surprisingly jovial manner. Perhaps the blood loss was simply getting to him, or maybe he was just having an easier time blocking out the events from his mind. At the moment, he wasn't even sure. "I sure don't feel lucky..." Viper finished with a slight chuckle before removing his gaze from her and lowering it to his wound. He really had lost a lot more blood than he realized. He was growing lightheaded and dizzy, when she then instructed him to relax.

"Sure thing ma'am." He turned back toward her, and a small frown soon appeared. How exactly did she plan on healing him with no supplies of any kind? Did she simply plan to wish him better? Wait...! That mark on her hand...what did it mean? Along with the tales of her people came small details of tattoos or markings given to them by their gods. Or at least, if he remembered the stories right, that's how it went.

Was she a sorceress of some kind? A witch? Suddenly he wasn't too sure if this was a good idea after all. He flinched. Not out of pain, but out of hesitation, being unsure as to what her intentions could possibly be. Stories of wizards and sorceresses never seemed to be good, nor were the endings of those they dealt with... The softness in her eyes and the growing serenity in her countenance seemed to indicate no hostile intent however. His mind was being pulled in two different directions. Flee from what he doesn't know just to be safe...or trust someone he has never met.

Trust...the word itself has always made him apprehensive. Like fine wine, whenever he had tried it, the after affects were not good. So he had given up wine, and save for a very select few...trust. However, his wound could pose some serious problems, even lead to his own death if not properly taken care of quickly. It would seem the gods were forcing his hand. Taking a deep breath, he exhaled slowly, forcing his body to relax.

Holding his shirt aside, his facial expression soon became blank. An old habit of his to hide his true feelings. All the while though he stared into her eyes with concern to try and detect any hint of treachery or evil intent.

Her touch was soft...soothing. Then a very strange sensation shot through him as his wound quickly closed. Revealing no gash, scar, or any visible indication of any kind that would explain the amounts of blood on his ripped shirt. His face betrayed his amazement a bit as his mouth opened slightly in awe of her gift. Not only amazement though. His mouth closed quickly as he frowned, growing ashamed that he would have suspected her of being anything but a kind person intent on anything other than helping him. All of these thoughts quickly passed through his mind as he lowered his shirt after one last glance.

His gaze lifted to meet her eyes as she simultaneously turned to him. With a strange mixture of surprise and gratitude at the whole encounter, he smiled warmly and gave a small bow. "My thanks ma'am. It would have been a lot harder and probably not turned out nearly as perfect if I would of had to treat it myself." He gave a slightly embarrassed chuckle. "I'm uh...not so sure my patch for you will come out nearly as well I'm afraid. But it shouldn't be noticeable."

He felt as though a simple thanks was no where near enough to show his gratitude. But as he stared into her beautiful blue eyes, watched as the failing light still glistened slightly off her "skin". He found himself at a loss as to what he really could do...