RP:Reach Out for Her Healing Hands

From HollowWiki

Summary: After battling an undead dragon, an injured Talyara spies an even more injured Kasyr and makes her way over to him to offer her healing services. Under the watchful eye of Krice, the witch channels the last of her energy into healing the Kensai.

This is a Healer's Guild RP.


Twisted Leafless Shaking Tree

Talyara's emerald eyes scan the remaining fighters to see who might be in need of some help and it's not long before she spies a writhing Kasyr on the ground. She gently pats Gylworliath on the side of her neck and gestures towards him laying in the snow. "Over there girl." Looking over her shoulder, Taly says to her sister, "Keep pressure on your leg. If you need to go somewhere you can take, Gyl I just think I should, uh, make sure he's okay first" Once near the Kensai, she gingerly slides from the wyvern's back and hobbles towards where the man lays in the snow laden ground, barely putting weight on her injured ankle. "Hi there," she offers with a kind smile. "My name is Taly and I'm a healer. Would you like some help?"


Krice noted Kasyr as well, but only once Talyara had directed his wyvern to carry the women over to the fallen Kensai. The warrior followed behind, a little slower since he was nursing his own injury, but he seemed at least strong on his feet despite the blood dribbling from his back to soak his pants. How uncomfortable. The warrior moved to assist Talyara's dismount by sliding his right arm around her waist and helping her down, thereafter easily shouldering her weight on their way to Kasyr's side. Once she was kneeling beside the other injured male, the enigma stepped back to let her work, standing just a couple metres outside their immediate bubble. Gylworliath snorted her pleasure at the witch's kindness, lowering her head to sniff at one of Kasyr's feet. Krice flicked a hand toward her and muttered a wry, " Don't be irritating."


Kasyr absently goes to reach into his coat with his left hand, regrets it immensely, and then completes the motion with his right, awkwardly rummaging about as Talyara addresses him. For someone that's slowly staining the ground around him red, he's doing an admirable job of keeping a relative stoic (and incredibly tired) expression plastered on his face. The earnestness of her question, however, manages to take away some of the edge from his expression, "Enchantee. Et, Oui S'i- er." Shutting his eyes in an effort to regain clarity, he directs that amber gaze back towards her, only to more clearly state, "Yes. Please." That said, whatever bit of sincerity might have been found in his voice starts to slip away again, if only to be replaced by a resigned sounding sigh. It's Krice and his wyvern companion that have his attention at this point, if only because he feels obliged to ask, "Not going to try et eat it, es she?" And then almost absentmindedly, "Hi, again."


Talyara cannot help but smile when she hears Gylworliath trill in delight--the little witch adored that wyvern. Meanwhile, the elder witch atop the saddle begins to tend to her own wound--thankfully it wasn't life threatening and had already begun to slow in the bleeding. She waits for consent from Kasyr before she begins to assess his wounds, her hands hovering over his injured arm. Taly flicks a gaze over her shoulder at Krice when he chides the wyvern but holds her tongue. "I'm sure this is a silly question, but you don't oppose magical healing, correct?" While she was sure he wouldn't, she wanted to make absolutely sure she wouldn't do more harm than good. "I can do it without magic, of course, but it won't be as effective...or fast."


Krice’s expression was guarded for reasons that were his own, but noticeably softened as he watched Talyara tend to the fallen Kensai. Gylworliath listened to her master and trilled quietly, withdrawing her snout from the side of Kasyr's boot to instead gain some distance lest she 'irritate'. The warrior said to Kasyr, " Hi. No. She doesn't eat martyrs." It was his attempt to keep the mood light in deference to the other male's suffering. At this point, Talyara spared him sight of those entrancing green eyes and he lost himself in them, a reprieve from the discomfort of the long gash in his back. With her attention back on Kasyr, he was forced to focus solely on his own inherent strength and stood silent vigil over the healer and her patient, eyes half-lidded but aware.


Kasyr cannot suppress the cattish grin that crosses his features in that moment, even though a wince from his coat shifting does briefly interfere with it, "Well, at least being self destructive es good for something." Offering a side glance to the witch, the swordsman offers a small nod of assent, "Feel free, en fait. I'm pretty sure I messed up my ribs, too." There's a pause, before the swordsman adds, "It happens enough that it's a familiar feeling." That said, he finally plants the cigarette to his lips, snapping his fingers to produce a few sparks to light it. "Lionel was right. You really are fast."


Talyara watches curiously for a moment as Kasyr puts a cigarette between his lips of all things. She wasn't a smoker herself, she never saw the appeal. When he mentions his ribs, the witch bobs her head in understanding before gesturing towards his more obvious injury. "Let's take care of this first, alright?" Taly talks like a healer, her voice the epitome of calm and gentleness, but not patronizing. She hopes that her normally stoic warrior will take the bait of conversation and continue to talk with the Kensai, allowing her to work efficiently and focus entirely on the healing. Closing her eyes the witch channels her energy once more--it takes a bit longer to manifest this time around, having already expended a lot of magic this evening. But eventually, a familiar swirling sphere ignites to life between her palms and once it is the size of baseball, she reaches towards Kasyr, starting near his collarbone. "This might feel a bit hot," she murmurs in warning. When her magic touches the injury, he would feel an intense heat and then a tingling as his skin began to knit back together.


Krice was especially attentive while Talyara engaged her magic to heal Kasyr, not only so he could note where that magic was, but also that he might track her energy levels; using too much had a tendency to exhaust the one using it. He observed the formation of that magical sphere and then its influence on Kasyr's damaged skin, intrigue filling the crease in his brow. Kasyr's words inspired silence at first, but then as if on some base level of understanding and awareness, he took the bate as Talyara had hoped. " I've... slowed with age." Totally fine with redirecting the conversation away from him, the warrior said, " And you - you're like the weather itself." Chaotic, crackling energy.


Kasyr takes in a slow drag from the cigarette, before carefully drawing his face away from Talyara to exhale, "Not going anywhere." The glibness that encompasses only seems to hammer home a peculiar sense that nothing is out of the normal. And considering the devastating side effects of his own technique of swordsmanship, to say that he came out of this encounter lightly would be a vast understatement. Perhaps that's how he manages to maintain the morbid mirth he's coasting along. In any case, once she offers her warning, he's pretty quick to throw himself back into the conversation, in the same way a child might glance away when they're being treated by a physician. And it certainly helps that Krice provides an interesting distraction, "Slowed? ..Wait, with age?" That one earns Krice a little bit of a squint, albeit one that's fairly short lived as he finds himself side glancing towards the source of heat, and the itching sensation of new flesh forming and cobbling itself together. "Or with peace times? ...Still, you're not wrong, enfin. It's part of why wielding it es a bit- risky." Just a little, obviously. Look at how casually he's smoking. Totally the face of honesty here.


Talyara enters into complete healer mode at this point which means the conversation between the two men is totally blocked out by her concentration. Lana, who had managed to stem the flow of her own blood to a trickle asks the warrior if can take Gylworliath to head back home, where ever she was calling home these days. If he obliged and the wyvern was willing, she would coax Gyl away from the warrior and the witch, probably begrudgingly. Talyara continues to move her energy slowly along the length of Kasyr's self inflicted injury, allowing the skin to heal before moving to the next spot. Krice would be able to sense that her energy is slowly decreasing, but only due to their relationship and his keen abilities. To the Kensai, Taly looks ever focused and resilient in her healing efforts--halfway done with his arm.


Krice shrugged his left shoulder. " I just meant... I'm out of practice." It wasn't every day he needed to quick-step in avoidance of a large undead dragon. Or anything, really. Lanara interjected at that point and the warrior looked up at the older sibling, still comfortably seated atop the wyvern - who had taken it upon herself to rest on the spot; she had received quite a blow from the dragon at the beginning of the fight. Noting his wyvern's tiredness but also being fully aware of Talyara's waning energy, the warrior seemed reluctant to let Lanara take Gylworliath on her own. But Gylworliath was also tired and sore, he could tell, so he flipped his right hand in a gesture of concession. Gylworliath trilled and then snorted her disagreement before turning to walk Lanara away from the battle scene. Krice stepped toward the opposite side of Kasyr's legs to put himself more readily within Talyara's sight. " That's enough, Talyara," he said smoothly, sparing the Kensai an apologetic glance--hopefully he felt better by that point--albeit fleeting. The woman was his main concern, and her energy levels were dwindling the more magic she used.


Kasyr mentally notes the correction, and files it away, in that nebulous warehouse of 'if it ever becomes relevant. Instead, he ekes towards affirming that prior comment, "Peacetimes." The next few moments are interesting to the kensai, , if only because of the enigmatic man's protectiveness. Kasyr lifts up an eyebrow, but doesn't particularily seem perturbed by the development- if only because, he was bleeding substantially less than before, and this bout of quiet time had at least allowed his pounding headache to subside to some degree. "It's been appreciated, enfin." That all said, the Kensai doesn't really look like he's making any active motions to pull himself free of his own imprint. Maybe he has a plan on how to get back. It's probably a terrible plan, but maybe he has one.


Talyara vaguely comes out of her trance-like state when she feels the buzzing on the inside of her left wrist fade away. Upon birth, her mother had branded the sisters with identical rune tattoos which acted as a sort of tracker to the other. She looks over her shoulder to watch Lanara and Gylworliath trot away before she catches Krice's crimson eyes and his warning reaches her slightly tapered ears. "I'm fine," she assures the warrior with a small smile. "We're almost done anyway. Can you go into my bag for me?" Taly carefully tilts the sphere of swirling energy from her left hand while shrugging off her right shoulder strap, before doing the opposite, thus allowing Krice to take the bag from her safely. "There's a jar in there that has a pale green whipped paste. Can you grab that?" Taly was nearing the Kensai's elbow now, most of his skin looking nearly back to normal. "I've healed the wounds but your skin will probably still be sensitive," she informs Kasyr. "This is a salve of aloe and coconut oil which will be like a cooling moisturizer. Apply it throughout the day." The ball of energy was flickering, signaling Taly's tiredness but she was determined to persevere. "Which side of your ribs hurt?"


Krice’s eyes communicated to Kasyr his agreement: Peacetimes. One couldn't really practice battle as effectively as fighting in the real thing. He was rusty, slow, almost ineffective by his usual standards. Talyara's insistence that she was 'fine' was met with a skeptical frown from the warrior, but he obliged and stepped forward to pull her back from her shoulder and rest it on the ground beside Kasyr's feet - to Taly's left. He reached in with his right hand and found the described jar, double-checking its contents with a scrutinizing glance before he offered it to the healer. He took a step back when she enquired after Kasyr's injured ribs and pressed his lips together in a thin line of disagreement. Unaware as to whether or not the Kensai could read body language as accurately as he hoped, Krice shot Kasyr a pointed look that requested he be as tolerant as possible - and take from Talyara as little as possible in terms of the healing she offered.


Kasyr finds himself needing to restrain a laugh, if only because the first comment that popped to his mind was, 'Let me find the rib that doesn't.' If anything, the simple act of holding in those perverse chuckles causings needles of pain to sharply gouge all along his front. "Took the hit head on." To be very frankly, the only reason he doesn't have a set of floating ribs and a perforated lung was that barrier he'd managed to erect at the last moment. Whilst the Kensai wants to say something else, his nature as an empath is kicking in rather sharply about this point, something which coaxes a raised eyebrow from the swordsman for a few brief moments as he tries to parse those feelings, and the swordsman's expression. Whilst it'd be possibly hard to interpret the unspoken conversation normally, the added subtext helps to fill in the blanks, leading the Kensai to stating, "Bruising es fine. My concern es any cracks or breaks." He almost looks a tiny bit sour, but the puff he takes on the cigarette helps to cover it up, as does the display he makes of readjusting where the cigarette is in his mouth.


Talyara does her best to avoid Krice's gaze because she knows she's going to see concern there, and probably disagreement that she is -not- fine and her energy is depleting despite her denial. To see him worrying about the witch might cause her resolve to waver and she was intent on seeing this 'patient' through to the end of his healing. Taly wrinkles her nose when Kasyr mentions taking a hit head on and moves to shift her weight causing pressure on her injured ankle. The witch inhales sharply and bites the inside of her cheek to keep from crying out. After taking a moment to compose herself, she places her hands on either side of the Kensai's middle and flicks her gaze to his face once more. "You're gonna feel a sharp pain, I'll make it as brief as possible." Like before, a glowing light is manifested; however, this time it encompasses both of her hands rather than an external, revolving sphere. The witch pulses her healing energy through to Kasyr's bones, coaxing and cracks, breaks, or splinters, to weave themselves whole once more. Talyara holds this as long as she can, exerting herself more than she should so that the man is hopefully left with only minor bruising before her grip slackens and she slouches sideways.


Krice definitely noticed that scowl, partly because he was so aware of Talyara's condition - and her weakening magic through continued use - that he was privy to anything that might threaten it. For instance, Kasyr's bitterness at having his treatment shortened. Still, Talyara had insisted that she was fine to heal the Kensai so all the warrior could do was to try silently convince him that he didn't need more healing. When Talyara tweaked her ankle, he shot a glance her way and frowned as the sound of her discomfort permeated his Kensai-centric focus. A frown shadowed his features but he said nothing; it wouldn't do to have a mini-domestic with the healer in front of someone in her care. How unprofessional. He stood vigil closer to her than before, watching as the magic crept from her hands into Kasyr's body, repairing the damaged ribs beneath his skin. After some time, he crouched to stop her with a touch but she ceased her magic a moment later, and he was there instead to catch her against his chest when she slumped. He sighed into the top of her hair, frustration tempered by concern, and glanced in the direction of Gylworliath and Lanara's retreat. They were quite distant now, and the last thing he wanted was to call attention to their little weakened group by whistling for her. As the frosty air hit the exposed sliver of his injured back, he shivered and curled his arms around Talyara to support her, his question directed at Kasyr. " How does that feel? Can you walk?" The warrior was rigid, trying to express a respectable amount of concern for the Kensai while avoiding overwhelming himself with concern for the witch.


Kasyr may not enjoy the process of having his bones knit together, but with each sharp edge of pain comes a gradual sense of relief. Albeit one which is briefly derailed when he takes into account the way in which Talyara begins to crumple to the side. "Uh." With his excuse for slumming it in the middle of Devil infested over now dwindling, the Kensai begins to push himself up to a sitting position. Only now does he actually bother to really take in the aftermath of the encounter, blinking about owlishly, before Krices comment redirects his attention back to the man, "Oui. Thanks." There's a pause there, rife with an awkward sort of hesitation, but the Kensai finds himself asking even as he rises to his feet, "Do you two need help, now, enfin?" There's a distinct side eye given to Talyara in that moment, and then back over towards Krice, "I don't have any other pressing engagements, enfin." Sure, he's , tired, and it's been a hell of a day, but he's intact enough now that he'll probably be useful- at the very least as a deterrent to anything that might have liked it's chances with two isolated strangers.


Talyara feels her body thump against Krice's chest as he moves swiftly to catch her before she slumps sideways into the snow. Her eyes fall half lidded as tiredness overcomes her and she suddenly finds herself fighting to stay awake. "I...have to tend to your back," she tells the silver haired enigma before reaching up and rubbing her eyes like a petulant child fighting an early bedtime. Taly gropes for her bag and after several misses, grabs the handle and tugs it towards her person with a grunt. "I have bandages in here," she mumbles pulling out some fresh cloth. "And some of this," she adds pulling out a jar of orange-tinged salve. Despite the warrior's super-human abilities, she wanted to get some type of antiseptic on that wound, for her peace of mind at the very least.


Krice’s expression softened toward Kasyr now that Talyara was no longer taxing herself; sincerely, the Kensai wasn't a problem for him - he was just... a source of Talyara's stubbornness, in a sense. When he reassured that he was fine, the warrior nodded and turned his attention back to Talyara, reassuring her of the same. " I'm fine," he mumbled, reaching forward to help her grab that pack. As she started to withdraw items to help treat -him-, the silver-haired warrior reached out, straining the muscles in his damaged back, to nudge her hand so that everything could be returned to the bag. " I told you - I'm fine," he reiterated a little more firmly, lifting a crimson stare to the standing Kensai. " I got her," he said in response to the Kensai's offer of assistance, shivering again. Kasyr wouldn't see it but Talyara would feel it. " Don't go too far ahead. We should remain relatively close together"--even if separated by several metres--"through the more dangerous parts of Frostmaw." The warrior shifted to pick up Talyara's pack and maneuvered it up his other arm (his hand holding her against his chest) over his shoulder, thus freeing both arms to gently ease her into his hold as he stood. He was a little unstable at first, but with a huff of determination, he lifted the weightless--to him--witch and found his full height, nodding for Kasyr to begin the trek back east.


Kasyr finds himself kneeling down to offhandedly pick up the ointment, stuffing it into his coat, before his attention flicks back over to the pair. Whilst the idea of trying his own hand at meddling briefly occurs to him, the lingering possibilities of ice devils help to stave off any charitable ideas puttering about through his mind. Ultimately, it culminates in a simple shrug, as the swordsman begins to step away, "It's good advice. Just let me know if you get worse, enfin." Still, the Kensai is hardly going to begrudge Krice for his decision, especially given the bit of internal pragmatism he'd just committed to moments ago. "Et vraiment. Really, even. Thank you, both of you." And then he's shuffling along, the promise of a few consecutive bouts of day drinking proving to be the balm his soul needs at that moment.