Solo A Cold in the Tent

Ipisol catches a spring cold, and it's up to Lenz to use her basic knowledge in herbalism to try to help her feel better again

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A Cold in the Tent

Postby Lenz on March 1st, 2014, 4:16 pm

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27th of Spring, 514 AV


One of her dreams was so vivid that she almost thought it was real.

The woman was frolicking through meadows of flowers whilst it was raining lightly on her skin. She stuck out her tongue to enjoy the feeling of the water droplets before she fell to the ground.

She spread her arms out wide as if she was flying and did the same to her legs. She then moved them so that her arms touched her sides and her legs touched each other and repeated this over and over again.

Soon she was humming a familiar song and then her voice carried. She was singing with her heart carefree of any worries. But then there was a loud crack of thunder.

The rain started to our down harder and quicker, stinging the woman's flesh. Her red hair matted to her forehead as she struggled to escape the wrath of the weather.

There was a strike of lightning overhead, causing her heart beat to skip a beat. She didn't know if she was going to survive. The lightning strike was so close, she could feel the vibrations it caused when it touched the ground.

She sprinted until she couldn't breath any longer.



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Small puffs of white snow were falling gently outside of the tent. Lenz was fast asleep, her dreams accompaniying the comfort she got from the winter blankets she was snuggled up with.
The sun was shining brightly on her face as she danced amidst the skinny raindrops that fell from the heavens above. She opened her mouth from time to time to catch one on her tongue.

Her ravishing locks of hair coloured like the bloodshed from a battlefield moved as she swayed her hips. Her eyes were closed, but she could see everything; she could feel everything from the sweltering rays of sunlight kissing her cheeks to the wet blades of grass she walked on.

All was pleasant and all was expected.


Her dream was controllable. There were no unlawful twists or turns and there was nothing out of the ordinary that she couldn’t revert back to what she wanted. This was a perfect night’s sleep she had needed for many days now.

However, the child lying next to her wasn’t so lucky.

Ipisol was restless. She had kicked Lenz multiple times throughout the night and continued to do so until the early morning. She wrestled with her blanket and whined and moaned every now and again. Eventually the woman was fed up with the noise and fidgeting. She threw her own blanket off of her head, revealing messy curls of fire.

Although her dreams had been interrupted she didn’t mind much. She was thankful to be reunited with the aspects of reality every now and then, but for the many bells she had spent thinking up wondrous lands and artificial activities, she was happy.

After she had thrown off the blanket that shrouded her legs, Lenz went to administer her comforting aid to the whimpering child. Perhaps she was having a nightmare and couldn’t wake up from it.

She rolled over and placed a gentle, warm hand on the girl’s shoulder. It was abnormally warm, but she pinned on the fact that Ipisol was covered in a blankets.

“Hey,” she cooed, petting Ipisol’s shoulder as if it were a pet. “What’s wrong?”

The child simply responded with another muffled whine. She wasn’t even making any words as if she were trying to scream for help in her dream. Of course all people dreamt differently, but Lenz had only observed people dreaming in one particular way and this wasn’t it.

Upon closer observation she noticed a few large beads of sweat coating her forehead. When she used her hand to wipe the sweat away, it was immediately pained with heat.

Is she alright? she asked herself, truly becoming worried that her companion was ill.

She felt her forehead again to make sure that she hadn’t imagined the sensation. She was greeted by the same outcome as she had before. Ipisol’s head was hot and that could only mean one thing. She had a fever.

Fevers were generally normal for children of any age, but they should always be taken care of quickly, for it wasn’t, the sick individual could contract other sicknesses and eventually burn up to a certain stage where it was very easy for them to die.

Lenz gasped at the thought of losing her only friend to a minor cold. She couldn’t bear to lose anyone ever again, for if she did, her life would be on the edge of severe depression and death by personal infliction.

She had time, but as any concerned adult would be, she was overly concerned and hurried to rummage around in her backpack.

A while ago she had wound up in the city’s library. She had seen all of the books and couldn’t help herself as she took a few off of the shelves and began to read them. One of those books gave detailed descriptions about many herbs. Herbalism, as she recalled, was the art.

Herbalism required using the wide variety of plants, flowers and herbs in Mizahar to produce medicinal aid for multiple illnesses. She remembered jotting down some details about a certain plant that helped with fever and that is why she was trying so hard to find the piece of paper she had written it down in.

She had never actually proceeded in using any special techniques to make the herbal medicine, but she had enough knowledge to help her in doing so for the very first time. Besides, how will know what it will be like until you try it?

After much searching, a piece of paper with so my words scribbled all over it, fell out onto the floor of the tent. She scooped it up and clenched it in her hand with a firm grasp. This was a prised possession to her now and she wouldn’t let it out of her sight.

She struggled to get on her shoes and after she had slipped them on, she had issues in trying to get on her coat. Finally after she was all set and ready to venture into the world outside, she unzipped the tent door and stepped out into the early spring air.

A mild breeze struck her face as if she was being attacked by a whip. She hadn’t been outside in a little while and although it was said that spring brought warmed weather, sometimes that sayings was not fact at all.

The small particles of snow continued to flutter down. They stuck to Lenz’s wild hair as she trekked through the rest of the tent city.

She still held the piece of paper in her hand and her hand was in her coat pocket. She had forgotten her gloves and never owned a hat, so her most fragile limbs were exposed to the wrath of Coldness.

Just because she could, and to try to pass the time, the woman began to sing. Her voice was whimsical and was valued with much hope to her that she tried to sing as much as she could whenever she was feeling frightened or anxious.

Now was neither of those times, but she persisted in spilling her soft and melodical voice to the wilderness.

“Spring’s day shalt be right around the corner,
Summer’s day as well...
Spring’s the season for warmth and such flower
Not one such cold hell…”


Her voice trailed off for a second or two as she passed by the tree where a terrible event had almost ended her life. She had been face to face with a wild wolf who almost stuck its claws in her throat if she hadn’t used her dagger as defense.

She had placed the wild animal’s corpse a little to the north, but as she strained her eyes to see if it was still there, there was nothing to see, or nothing she could find.

So she began to sing again to calm her nerves.

“Once thy plants ripen again so does thy people
Once all has been greened and restored so shall the hearts of all
I can’t wait, oh, I can’t wait, oh, I can’t wait for Spring,
I can’t wait, I say I can’t wait, oh, I can’t wait for Spring…”


Suddenly her footing lost its balance as a twig sprung up from the ground and caught the toe of her shoe. She fell forward, her hands barely stretching out to break her fall. Her mouth was still open, replacing the words that left it with bits of leaves and mud.

She spat out the debris and stood up, shaking off the mess she had made of herself. She was more stressed out than she thought, that or simply not paying attention.

“Focus,” she said to herself as she took out the sheet of paper in her coat pocket. “Focus.”

And then she began to sing again.
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A Cold in the Tent

Postby Lenz on March 1st, 2014, 9:15 pm

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27th of Spring, 514 AV


Her voice carried through the bare trees. It reminded her of an iceberg breaking away from a vast sheet of ice. Her song broke the tension and the silence that filled the forest and it heightened her spirits. Her determination gave her more strive.

Taking a glance at the sheet of paper than contained all her notes, Lenz ran her eyes down the list of different herbs and the ways they were supposed to be prepared in order to be most beneficial. They skipped over the most difficult to make until they latched onto something familiar.

Catnip.

The name rang like a million bells in the woman’s head. She could picture the exact moment when she had written down the description of the herb. She could also visualize her hand outlining the plant as she illustrated to help her for times such as now.

She stared at the section she had written about Catnip and read aloud, “Catnip increases perspiration without raising body temperature to help reduce fevers and rid the body of sickness and disease. It has also been proven to be effective in helping ease restlessness, motion sickness and anxiety in children when prepared as a tea.”

Lenz smiled. She knew that this was what she needed to help relieve Ipisol of her high fever and restlessness.

With the image of what the Catnip looked like held in her mind as if someone had painted a picture of it and pinned it to a wall in her brain, she rushed to browse the many shrubs and vegetation that littered the floor.

Thankfully most of the snow had melted, and even the snow that was falling as she looked wouldn’t stick to the ground. It was too warm for snow, but too cold to be classified as spring.

Her hand held up a large green leaf from an unidentifiable plant. This was probably not the best thing to do. She didn’t know if the plant was poisonous just by touch or not, however, she didn’t have any gloves so it was a chance she was going to have to take.

For Ipisol, she sighed to herself as she continued to scrounge the surface of any details the Catnip depicted.

She pulled away a few shrubs from the undergrowth only to reveal more common plants. She was near close to giving up when something she recognized was caught from out of the corner of her eye.

She twisted around so fast that if her head wasn’t attached to her head it would have fallen off right then and there. She ran over to the plant and crouched down.

She prodded at the herb until she took out her notes again and compared the two. They were so identical that Lenz couldn’t be more sure. Although, just to be safe, because you could never be too careful, she read aloud what to look for.

“Catnip most commonly grows from fifty to one hundred centimetres tall and wide. It resembles a square stem with brown-green foliage. It has coarse-toothed leaves that are very obviously triangular to ovate in shape. The small flowers can be white and or have pale purple or pink fine spots. They are showy and fragrant.”

The woman nodded her head, her luscious amount of red curls bobbing with the motion she made. She had the correct herb and she was more than sure of herself.

She went about and picked a few, unearthly the roots so that the mud they were caked it caked her fingers instead. It was a miracle that she had found them so early in the spring, and she felt like the world was on her side when she had.

She didn’t pocket the specimen like she did the piece of paper. Instead she carried the plant all the way back to the tent. It meant that much to her and was special in every way she could think of at that point in time.

She was so elated that she couldn’t help but skip, singing as she went.

“Ipisol,” her voice rang out. “I have something wonderful for you.”

She was indeed a child at heart, but that made someone so unique as herself.


OOC :
Now, I understand if the techniques Lenz is doing might be advanced seeing as how she currently has no skill points in herbalism. However, she is only doing things as her notes instruct her to, so it can't get more basic than that.

Herbalism is a touchy subject anyways, given that it doesn't always work and isn't as strong as proper medicine like the medicine skill. Just bear with me here.
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A Cold in the Tent

Postby Lenz on March 2nd, 2014, 1:36 am

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27th of Spring, 514 AV


She was out of the woods and trampling through the Tent City when she opened her tent and slipped inside. She was so excited that she had almost forgotten to prepare the herb before serving it to the ill child.

“Here you go Ips,” she whispered handing over the dirty plant. She had taken one look at what she was doing and retracted her offer, hiding the plant behind her back.

Wait, I’m supposed to do something with it first. Giving the raw herb won’t do much for her, no. Don’t I have to…?

She slipped out the piece of paper with the hand that wasn’t being used to grasp the Catnip. Her eyes snapped from left to right until she located the portion that described how to prepare the Catnip.

Boiling, she said to herself, trying to think about how she was going to go about doing such a thing. Do I have something to boil the herb in?

She searched around the small space the tent offered until her eyes landed on a bowl she had bought a while back protruding out from her backpack. She picked up and spun it around in her hands.

Perfect, she thought as she went back outside.

She had planned out how she was going to collect the water she needed to boil a long time ago. She had come to the conclusion that she would scoop up all the snow that had melted to water from around the tent.

She knew that the water would not be sanitary, but had the previous knowledge of hearing someone tell her that when you boil something, all of the bad things that made water unhealthy went away. It disappeared, or something more elaborate and scientific, she didn’t remember.

She bent down and put the bowl in a puddle a few feet away from the tent. She made sure that it was titled sideways so that the water went into the bowl and filled it up as high as it was allowed.

After that, she took the bowl back into the tent and set it down. Now all she needed to do was start a fire. She had made a fire pit before, but that was a long time ago and most of it had been forgotten. However, a few bits and pieces of advice stuck to her like a bad smell.

“I need to collect fire wood,” she said aloud, grabbing her dagger from beside her bed. She always kept it there for safety reasons. She had been bombarded by thugs once before and it wasn’t ever going to happen again as long as she lived.

Once she had the blade held tightly in her hand, she started to make her way back towards the forest.

She had taken a few steps past the boundary line that kept civilization away from the wilderness when she spotted a fallen tree to her left. She instinctually jogged over to it and squatted into a semi-comfortable position.

She exposed the dagger and began to hack at the various twigs that gave the tree its individual characteristics.

She made sure to hold the knife the proper way, with her fingers safe from being cut. Her knuckles turned white as she held the blade to the bark and then slashed off the rest of the branch. Some of the bark flew off, almost blinding the poor, unsuspecting woman.

She shielded her eyes with the other arm as she continued. She leveled the blade so that it was parallel to the wood and drew her arm back to hack at the tree once more. She did this several times until she lost count.

Once she had cut off enough necessary wood, she picked up all the pieces and hiked back to the campsite, another bright smile highlighting her facial features.

She started to set up the larger pieces of wood so that they were using each other for support. The end result was shaped like a triangle; a pyramid more or less. She tossed in the other small portions of the tree around the larger ones and went inside for the tinder she had left from her travels.

She also brought back out her flint and steel, her instincts on a roll now. It was as if her self-awareness had been diminished to such an extent that her mind was out of body. She was just sitting on the side lines, enjoying the scenes that played out in front of her.

She watched as she struck the flint against the steel again and again. Her fingers ached as she tried to get a spark. A few times she wished that she had learnt the art of fire reimancy before she had air.

Eventually, a spark was large enough to catch the tinder she had placed in with the wood on fire. The flame was small at first, therefore the woman used her breath to blow on it, strengthening its will to grow.

“Come on,” she whispered to the un-living object. “I need you right now.”

It was her hope that kept the fire alive and burning. She traipsed back into the tent and took the bowl of water and the Catnip she had picked.

With her dagger she cut off the muddy part of the root and the unnecessary excess root and leaves. She wanted the important part of the plant and that was the flower, the stalk and the minority of the leaves.

She set the trimmed herb into the water and placed the bowl on the top of the peak of the wooden pyramid she had so intelligently made. Some of it was luck and the other part was what she had learned when she was little.

Now all she had to do was wait, and wait she did.
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A Cold in the Tent

Postby Lenz on March 2nd, 2014, 8:27 pm

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27th of Spring, 514 AV


Waiting proved longer than Lenz had anticipated. It took a long while until the water started to produce large bubbles and an alarmingly loud noise. She thought it was going to explode before she took it off the top of the wooden peak.

She almost burnt her hands as she set it on the ground to cool. Tea was supposed to be warm, but not ‘burn your tongue until its blistering like the sun’ warm. She would have to wait some more.

Instead of testing how experienced she was in improving her patience, Lenz walked back into the tent to see how Ipisol was doing. She let her cold fingers caress the child’s forehead until they stopped in midair.

The girl’s long blond-red hair covered her mouth, startling Lenz for a mere second before she lifted it away from her face. As soon as she did this, the girl started to cough.

At first it was a frighteningly loud cough, one that reminded someone of a canine’s bark, but then it quieted. It was constant, though and this gave Lenz another set of worries to have to deal with. She had an herb that helped relieve a fever, but she didn’t think Catnip gave much aid in reducing a cough.

She went back to reading the notes she had taken from the library. This time instead of running her eyes over the words she had written and skimming the parts she thought weren’t so important, she made sure to pace herself, going over each and every word until it all made sense to her.

Her eyes latched onto one word that stuck out at her. The word was cough. She retraced her steps to the middle of the page where she had a plant name sloppily scrawled in her terrible penmanship.

Licorice. The word was so obvious that it made Lenz feel like a daft little girl. But it made her heart sink low into her stomach to read the words explaining the season of which it was grown and cultivated. Autumn.

Her shoulders slumped and her head hung. There was no licorice plant growing randomly out in the wilderness like Catnip did. Catnip was much more prominent and common than Licorice. However, she could run into town for a little bit and see if any vendors were selling the root.

She made sure to grab what she thought was a good amount of currency before squeezing the sickened female’s arm in terms to tell her that she was leaving. It was a sign the two had down since their arrival in Sunberth.

She trusted that she could leave the fire burning and the tea setting with Ipisol alone. She was only going to be gone for a few chimes at most. She made sure of this by sprinting through the mushy grass and the various snow piles that still hadn’t melted quite yet.

She jumped over a various obstacles that littered the pathways through the Tent City until she was welcomed by the inner city’s streets. With great pride in herself, the young woman continued to dash through the streets, passing many buildings until she was reacquainted with the Seaside Market.

It wasn’t too early for some sellers to be out and selling things, or so she thought. She wouldn’t know until she saw for herself. She had woken up rather early due to Ipisol’s restlessness and kicking.

Lenz rounded a corner to be met face to face with stand selling clothing. Relief flooded through her body, her veins igniting in joy. Thank goodness for her hurried attitude.

Her eyes flittered across the many stalls and stands selling all sorts of things from homemade dolls to pants to lockets and trinkets among other things. All she had on her mind right now, though was on purchasing that licorice root.

A man’s voice called out above the rest of them. It was loud and gruff and somewhat hard to understand, but one word he said sent shivers down her spine.

“Selling spices and seasonings! Get your spices and seasonings here!”

She listened more intently to what he had to say. She slowly walked closer to him as inconspicuously as she could whilst she kept her ears and eyes trained on the vendor.

“Cumin, Saffron, Garlic, Rosemary, Licorice and Salt. Get them all here and for a fair price!”

Thrilled, the woman with scarlet hair that simulated the shade of the garnet gem waltzed over the man’s stand, the silver mizas she had brought along already in her hand. She stretched out her hand and slapped the money on the table.

“I would like to purchase an ounce of your Licorice root, please,” she breathed, out of breath from the running she had just done.

The man looked her over, his striking blue eyes scrutinizing her as if trying to find any signs of weakness or thing to use to hold against her. The little hair he had was matted to his head and small droplets of sweat ran down the sides of his face.

“How much will it be?” she persisted, leaning over the table to glare into his eyes. She was strict and stern, much unlike how she really was. But someone’s life was potentially endangered and was willing to do everything she could to help that person out.

“How much?” she said again, her voice raised an octave. It came out higher than she expected but she didn’t care in the least.

“I can do four silver mizas for an ounce,” he finally replied, wiping his hand on his shirt. It was already covered in strange shades of stains. The browns and yellows would have grossed out anyone, but Lenz was too distracted by what she needed to be concerned about such a thing.

She looked down at what she had placed on the table. There were only three silver mizas there.

Her lips shifted into a frown, her eyes narrowing as she stared down the man that stood across the counter.

“I only have three mizas,” she said.

The man shrugged as if to send her on her way. She didn’t have the money, so she couldn’t pay for what she wanted.

“I only have three,” she said again, more annoyed by the fact that he just dismissed her like that.

“That’s too bad,” the man said.

“Please,” she begged, her voice high and childish. “Please, my child is sick and I need this to help her.”

She clasped her hands together and almost dared to get down on one knee but didn’t. Instead she made her eyes go real wide in an attempt to win the man over with her pleading appearance. She tried again by wishing for a discount.

“Please,” she whined. “I need it to help my child. She’s sick. She’s very sick.”

The man’s eyes, like crystals, blinked rapidly. His face contorted into a look of discomfort, some mild sympathy hidden behind his eyes like he was wearing a mask he couldn’t take off no matter how hard he tried.

“Please,” Lenz tried one last time before the man finally gave in.

“Alright, three mizas,” he growled. “But I’m making no business here!”

The woman smiled, as the vendor traded her the licorice for her three silver mizas. She didn’t think begging would have worked, and was amazed when it did. She felt like she was on fire.

Things were going so well. She knew that all of it came from hard work, however. Ever since her time spent in Xy, she had lost hope in such things as miracles. She still had hope, but it was for the people and the individual in need of such hope and not for miracles or random acts of wonder. She was a believer, but she wasn’t ignorant.

Now that she had the licorice, she didn’t know whether she still had to boil it like the notes she had written said or not. It was always better safe than sorry, so as soon as she headed back to the tent, she would proceed to boiling the spice.

Hopefully things would continue to look up.
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A Cold in the Tent

Postby Lenz on March 2nd, 2014, 11:35 pm

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27th of Spring, 514 AV


Once she had made her way back to the campsite, she went straight to work. She was relieved to see that the tent hadn’t burned down or that no one had stolen the bowl of tea or that Ipisol hadn’t been kidnapped.

She went back into the tent to fetch her other wooden bowl. She went back outside to squat by the same puddle she had used for the previous herbal tea and scooped up some of the melted snow.

A few splashes of water soaked the tips of her sleeves as she carried the bowl of cold water to the camp fire. Here, she set the bowl on the peak of the two largest pieces of lumber and sat back to watch.

She made sure that a decent amount of time passed by until she got up from the dry portion of land she had lounged on to retrieve the boiling water. She still had the licorice root in her hand, but only for a moment before she tossed it into the simmering liquid.

Instead of going back to sit down again, she went over to the first tea she had made to check on how it was doing. It was still a little too hot, but she thought that it would be acceptable for Ipisol to drink so she picked up the bowl and carried it into the tent.

“Ips,” she whispered to her.

The little girl moaned, rolling over. Hair like rolling plains of dry, arid grass all crispy from too much sunlight stuck to her face. She was still sweating, but Lenz wanted her to sweat more. She needed whatever sickness she had to come out and she had learned that sweating helped to do so.

She turned around and grabbed her personal blanket and then turned back to her ‘patient’. She draped the fabric over the child’s shoulders and made sure it covered her feet. She tucked it under her body before insisting the girl drink.

She held the cup out for her. “Drink this,” she said politely.

Ipisol subconsciously shook herhead and tried to roll over to the side facing away from Lenz. She was one second quicker, however, as she stuck out her hand to stabilize the girl’s frantic shift.

“I don’t wanna drink it,” she whined, her eyes shut so tight that small wrinkles formed on her eyelids.

“It will help make you feel better,” Lenz persisted, putting the cup to Ipisol’s lips.

It was a battle between the two females as Ipisol continued to refuse shouting, “No!”

“Yes,” the woman said, her face turning a light pink. She was getting a little fed up with the child. Didn’t she know that she had the potential to feel better if she drank the tea? Didn’t she know that Lenz only wanted the best for her?

“No,” Ipisol screamed, tossing and turning in the blankets. It was savage the determination she had to escape from drinking ‘medicine’.

Finally Lenz broke. She sat ontop of the child, using her legs to pin the girl’s arms to the floor of the tent. She forced her to drink it as she watched with much pleasure as the liquid raced down her throat with ease.

“Gross,” Ipisol complained as soon as all the tea was gone. Lenz got off of her then and stood up. She put her hands on her hips and looked down at the child.

“See?” she said, a small smile hinting at her chapped lips. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

And with that she went back outside to see if the other cup of tea was fully prepared.
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A Cold in the Tent

Postby Lenz on March 3rd, 2014, 4:14 am

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27th of Spring, 514 AV


It didn’t take long until the smell was so strong that Lenz could have tasted it in her mouth for several days. Once it had reached a proper boiling point with the root in the water for a decent amount of time, the woman took the pot off the fire.

It was an instant, but it was enough to make the woman scream out in pain. Horror and dread filled her body from the bottom to the top as her hand sizzled with strange, abnormal noises.

“Ack!” she cried out, dropping the bowl of licorice tea. The tea splashed everywhere, but thankfully the bowl landed upside right, a few gulps of the tea still able to be drunk.

She clutched her hand, absentmindedly letting out a curse or two. The searing pain radiating up her arm and stung like she had been attacked by thousands of honey bees. She dared not look at the wound she has so foolishly given herself.

It was true she wasn’t a cook. She had no cooking equipment and that included not owning a pair of gloves used especially for taking hot things off of fires. She could have used an article of clothing she had, but she wasn’t thinking about that at the time.

She was only thinking about making Ipisol better. All common sense had hibernated for the day in her mind. She had been on a roll, in a way somewhat watching herself do all of these activities. Now, she was well aware that she could still feel the pain she brought upon herself.

She was not a spirit after all.

She scrambled over to the puddle she had so generously supplied herself with in making the tea. She sunk her hand deep in the water and instantly felt the coldness replace the intolerable heat.

When she couldn’t feel her hand anymore because the cold water had numbed it, she lifted it out of the water and wrapped it in her shirt. She went to retrieve the remaining tea and scuffled into the tent.

“Ipisol,” she said, still cringing. “I need for you to drink this.”

“No more,” she instinctively retorted. This sent Lenz over the edge. She was doing all of this for her friend, a child who was sick with a cold that could only go away if treated and what did she get in return? A bossy mouth who talked back to her.

“Listen Ipisol,” she told her sternly. The child immediately shut her mouth.

“I want you to get better. I’m busting my rear trying to make tea for you that should help your fever and cough and you’re not being very nice to me for doing it. I almost cut off a finger when I was chopping for wood, I had to beg like a homeless dog for a deal on the licorice and I just burnt my hand trying to get the tea off of the fire. And what do I get in return? A brat.”

An enormous weight had just been lifted off of the woman’s chest. She was still angry, but her head had cooled. Her hair was no longer flaming in metaphor like she had been told very few times before.

Ipisol nodded quickly, reaching out for the bowl of licorice tea. She grimaced when she smelled the substance and saw the unnatural colour but drank it all the same. She wiped her mouth and then smile apologetically when she finished.

Lenz took back the bowl and set it to the side with the other.

“I read that the first tea you had was supposed to help reduce your fever. The second tea said that it would help relieve you of that cough you’ve been having.”

Ipisol coughed as soon as soon as she mentioned the word.

“I hope you get better soon. I really do,” she said, a sorrowful frown marring her beautiful face. Nothing marred it. She had no moles, freckles or birth marks. Her fair toned skin glowed each and every day, but right now it was dulled by negative thoughts.

“It’s okay,” Ipisol said, trying to make her guardian feel better.

Cheer up, she added. Everything is going to be okay.

Lenz took a seat, her mind whirling like a turmoil caused by a whirlpool. So many thoughts ran into other thoughts and she sensed a headache coming on.

And it was. Somewhere deep inside her, a light flickered on. It was warm when it ignited and it comforted her and her aching heart and pained hand. Outside her and outside the tent, small puffs of pure white snow started to fall. Unlike the snow, the icy veil had been lifted from Lenz like a depressive thought relieving itself from a hurting person’s heart or like a guilty action flying off someone’s conscious.

She felt good, like she had done something worthwhile. She almost felt like she had saved someone’s life, the pride crawling up her neck and leaving small splotches of pink and light red colour.

She cast a longing look down at her hand and was appalled at the sight. A small, but very noticeable wound had marred the part inside of her index finger and thumb. It was gruesome and puffy looking with liquid oozing out of the pink tissue.

She gagged, but kept anything down anything that was threatening to come up. She was strong and although she was certain that there would be a hideous scar several days later, it would only make her stronger.

Just because she was thinking of marks littering the body and characterizing someone, Lenz lifted up her shirt. There were three distinctive and dark lines across her lower right stomach and a fourth lighter one next to them.

She dropped her shirt quickly and leant her head back, propelling herself to lie on the floor. Tears started to well up in her eyes and she didn’t let them fall.

Her past flooded her memory like a monsoon and soon she was recalling all kinds of events she wished with all her heart she could forget.

For all her life she had been trying to help and save people, but that she really dwelled on the thought, who was helping or saving her?

No one can save you but yourself, she thought, hearing her mother’s words echo in her brain. [No one can save you but yourself.[/i] And that was true.

She had lost all of those people she had tried her hardest to save. Names started to protrude her memory. She was soon bombarded with too many painful things that she ended up not being able to handle it.

Her sobs were loud, but no one was there to hear them. Ipisol was already fast asleep from the herbal medicine she had drank not too long ago. Lenz was again all alone.

Her chest rose alarmingly fast as she cried. Tears stained her cheeks and fell down her cheeks, filling up her ears.

“Please save me,” she breathed through the liquid that dared to drown her in. “Please.”

And before she knew it she was asleep as well.
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Lenz
A Lost Survivor
 
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A Cold in the Tent

Postby Zandelia on April 9th, 2014, 12:18 am

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Lenz :
Skills
Observation – 4
Persuasion - 2
Singing – 1
Reading – 3
Herbalism – 3
Foraging – 2
Dagger – 1
Wilderness Survival - 1

Lores
Checking For A Fever
Singing Away Sorrow
Herbalism: Catnip Properties
Catnip: Appearance And Growth Locations
No One Can Help You But You

Other
-4 silver miza
+4 ounces of liquorice




Notes :
Excellent writing as always Lenz. Stop being so good or I'll have to improve Zand eh? Eh! Nah you're okay. Come see me one day!


Any questions about my grade? PM me at any time. Keep Writing!
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Zandelia
I Aim To Misbehave
 
Posts: 1280
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Joined roleplay: September 23rd, 2011, 12:35 am
Location: Sunberth
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