Fall 37 503 AV
Eagerly pale hands fumbled the edges of bandages, tying them together over the splint twice before satisfied. The Symenestra on the table stared at the doctor suspiciously, testing the tenacity of his work before swinging his legs over the operating table. Another accident with climbing, surprisingly common for a a spider-like people. The small hairs on their body often times did not find the support they needed, especially on slippery walls.
The climber left without a word, limping on his leg gingerly.
Dhalvasha rubbed his hands together, black claws clacking against each other with swift optimism. He'd been smiling all day and now worked with terse haste to clean the supplies from the medical chamber. Weeks had been spent laying out the possibilities for a wild course of action. Sleepless nights and waking days of listless pondering had finally shattered beneath eager expectation. Stuffing jars beneath the operating table and scooting needles and extra bandages into stone drawers, he worked himself into a frenzy in the hopes of overtaking time itself and turning back the clock. Admittedly the decision was not a hard one to make, he knew the answer the moment the notion had time to simmer in his brain. However, details were the poisoned tips to kill ambitions and kings...all had to be planned perfectly.
His feet clattered in the hallways, raising the attention of the other Doctors, tuting disapprovingly at the uncouth speed by which Dhalvasha passed them. Still, the hunter turned doctor could care less about their cloak and dagger accusations, poor opinions...useless, the lot of it. Not even the appraising eye of his father could dislodge him from the perch he'd clamored to.
He almost lost himself to inattention, losing his way among the strands above the quiet depths of Kalinor. Thrice he had to arrest his steps and take another path, propelling the young man near the length and breadth of the spider city. Abandoned houses yawned at him from beneath gossamer webs, but he paid their haunting abscess no mind. Up walls he clamored, hand over pale hand. By now both had grown too large for the small niche above the Grotto. Instead, in youth, they'd build a clubhouse in one of the abandoned homes of Kalinor. It was a grim reminder of their own mortality, the dwindling power of their race, but the cool rooms and space left time and area for their imaginations to unwind. Chalk drawings seasons old marked their territory from the inside, pictures of monsters and spiders, riddles, and promises they'd written to remind themselves of who they were and where they were going.
Taking a piece of discarded chalk, the surgeon hastily scrawled a new riddle on the wall, frenzied shrieking to finish before she arrived. Near every day they had met, if but briefly, and today would hopefully be no different.
At least to her knowledge.
"It has no top or bottom but it can hold flesh, bones and blood all at the same time."
Glancing over the stilted letters quickly, smudging and rewriting as needed, Dhalvasha settled against the wall opposite, closing his eyes and allowing himself the opportunity to breathe. Reaching into his clothes, he pulled something from their depths and glanced at it, inspecting it for flaws it could not have accumulated before depositing it back.
So fast had he arrived that now he waited with near held breath, straining his ears to hear the scrabbling of her hands on the roof or outside the door. His father was a hard creature to win over, especially now that his son had left no question as to his abandonment of Hunting. Still, it was not as though the elder had malicious agendas for his second son...so an approval was granted grudgingly.
Still, granted.
His narrow chest rose and fell desperately, calling back life into his spent lungs. In lieu of his Hunting training, his endurance had fallen. In contrast, Shai had become more lithe, acrobatic, faster at moving. Not that she'd abandoned her family's craft, but both understood that weaving wasn't her real passion.
Movement was.
It's what he liked about her.