Rainforest Cliffs
02-28-2018, 05:53 AM
It was only when he saw her eyes closed did to occur to him that she had fallen asleep. A soft breath of air had left his lips, a form of relief perhaps, but that didn't mean his task was over yet. Once he had maintained her wounds he began to focus on the rash that riddled her body. Yet as he went to tend to it seemed there was something like a force around it, preventing him from tending it. The longer he remained close, the more intense the feeling was; and he soon realized that perhaps this was the work of the Rift. As it had taken away his hearing, it had taken over her body with this rash. This was going to be a longer night than he had thought.
The next two days had been filled with much to do for him. Although he was often tired and hungry, he refused to rest until everything that needed to be done to help the damsel had been finished. Only then would he retreat to a makeshift nest he had made in the brush; not too far from her, and fall asleep. There would be times where he would wake up concerned that she might have stopped breathing, simply because she was sleeping for so long. Yet he knew there had been cases like this, where your body went for so long that as soon as it recognized it was being healed, it would shut down for long periods of time. He supposed he should feel flattered, but in reality he was more worried about making sure that everything was healing properly.
Each time he would tend to her wounds he would study her, not in any malicious way, but with simple curiosity. Perhaps it was because this was the only time he could really fully study someone without them arguing, but he found that he would take his time changing her dressing just so he could study her features. Although her legs were an inky black, the rest of her tiny frame was a soft light blue. Specks of white were scattered along her body, beautiful flecks of ivory that looked like birds taking flight in a blue sky. Her wings, he assumed once they were healed, were quite pretty; mostly the same color of her coat but tipped with a bright silver. This same silver was the color of her mane, and he was fascinated that she could sport such simple yet elegant coloring.
He would often find his lips touching the second pair of wings delicately, wondering if they were still real, and although they belonged to this sweet girl he couldn't help but only think of Valkyrie as he did. He wanted to be unhappy with her, to forget about the painted Shieldmaiden with all of his might. Yet when he dreamed at night it was of her and him beneath the stars, her eyes of blue batting at him dearly as they had for Rosco. And in these dreams he would have two wings, strong and long that could easily wrap around her delicately frame and hold her close should he choose. When he would wake up each day he would question why he would have these dreams, why he would feel the way he did each time he rose for the day. He had yet to find answers, and honestly he didn't really have time to.
It was on the third day that the girl would finally wake. He had been away to grab his usual supply of dressing, only to find the dainty skull had lifted from its resting spot and big doe eyes were looking around uncertainly. Her head began to turn and reach for her wings, and instinctively the boy called out to her,"Leave it be." As he made his way closer he placed down his belongings and looked at her. He studied her eyes to make sure that she was indeed alert and not suffering from any cranial injuries before beginning to look at her wings once more. As he pulled away the banana leaves he found a set of patchy wings, unkempt and not exactly in the best shape. Yet where the puss and blood had oozed previously was now scabs, and to Vynter's medically trained mind this was a good sign. It was at this time he decided she likely wouldn't need to be bandaged if she left them to heal.
Pulling the leaves off of her wings he began to make the usual salve, having gotten it down to a simple science. He mixed the herbs together before gently applying them to the scabs in a thick layer. Fortunately the smell wasn't too bad, in fact there was a freshness to it that the boy quite liked. Once he was finished he slowly pulled the way, instinctively running his maw along the tips of her silver feathers when she had been asleep. It had been comforting, and he had found them to be incredibly soft. He was beginning to realize just how lonely he was becoming without his sister Fenyx around. After a moment of studying them for longer, he finally met her gaze again and spoke quietly,"Don't touch."
He began to put things away, pushing a piece of soaked moss to her once more before standing upright. He grabbed the old scraps, tossing them to the side so that they could decompose back into the earth. After he did so he took this time to stretch, his wing lifting and straining to stretch out as his muscles rippled beneath this coat. Shaking his head and letting his mane swish to and fro, the young man began to turn away in search of something for her to eat.
The next two days had been filled with much to do for him. Although he was often tired and hungry, he refused to rest until everything that needed to be done to help the damsel had been finished. Only then would he retreat to a makeshift nest he had made in the brush; not too far from her, and fall asleep. There would be times where he would wake up concerned that she might have stopped breathing, simply because she was sleeping for so long. Yet he knew there had been cases like this, where your body went for so long that as soon as it recognized it was being healed, it would shut down for long periods of time. He supposed he should feel flattered, but in reality he was more worried about making sure that everything was healing properly.
Each time he would tend to her wounds he would study her, not in any malicious way, but with simple curiosity. Perhaps it was because this was the only time he could really fully study someone without them arguing, but he found that he would take his time changing her dressing just so he could study her features. Although her legs were an inky black, the rest of her tiny frame was a soft light blue. Specks of white were scattered along her body, beautiful flecks of ivory that looked like birds taking flight in a blue sky. Her wings, he assumed once they were healed, were quite pretty; mostly the same color of her coat but tipped with a bright silver. This same silver was the color of her mane, and he was fascinated that she could sport such simple yet elegant coloring.
He would often find his lips touching the second pair of wings delicately, wondering if they were still real, and although they belonged to this sweet girl he couldn't help but only think of Valkyrie as he did. He wanted to be unhappy with her, to forget about the painted Shieldmaiden with all of his might. Yet when he dreamed at night it was of her and him beneath the stars, her eyes of blue batting at him dearly as they had for Rosco. And in these dreams he would have two wings, strong and long that could easily wrap around her delicately frame and hold her close should he choose. When he would wake up each day he would question why he would have these dreams, why he would feel the way he did each time he rose for the day. He had yet to find answers, and honestly he didn't really have time to.
It was on the third day that the girl would finally wake. He had been away to grab his usual supply of dressing, only to find the dainty skull had lifted from its resting spot and big doe eyes were looking around uncertainly. Her head began to turn and reach for her wings, and instinctively the boy called out to her,"Leave it be." As he made his way closer he placed down his belongings and looked at her. He studied her eyes to make sure that she was indeed alert and not suffering from any cranial injuries before beginning to look at her wings once more. As he pulled away the banana leaves he found a set of patchy wings, unkempt and not exactly in the best shape. Yet where the puss and blood had oozed previously was now scabs, and to Vynter's medically trained mind this was a good sign. It was at this time he decided she likely wouldn't need to be bandaged if she left them to heal.
Pulling the leaves off of her wings he began to make the usual salve, having gotten it down to a simple science. He mixed the herbs together before gently applying them to the scabs in a thick layer. Fortunately the smell wasn't too bad, in fact there was a freshness to it that the boy quite liked. Once he was finished he slowly pulled the way, instinctively running his maw along the tips of her silver feathers when she had been asleep. It had been comforting, and he had found them to be incredibly soft. He was beginning to realize just how lonely he was becoming without his sister Fenyx around. After a moment of studying them for longer, he finally met her gaze again and spoke quietly,"Don't touch."
He began to put things away, pushing a piece of soaked moss to her once more before standing upright. He grabbed the old scraps, tossing them to the side so that they could decompose back into the earth. After he did so he took this time to stretch, his wing lifting and straining to stretch out as his muscles rippled beneath this coat. Shaking his head and letting his mane swish to and fro, the young man began to turn away in search of something for her to eat.
Vynter
my will is a sword that cuts down anything in my way
