RP:The Kitten Heals the Dragon
Frostmaw Tavern
Hildegarde had finished her massive bowl of soup, as well as half a loaf of bread, before pushing it across the table a little. It was mostly to signal to Drargon that she had finished, but part of it was to feel like she had more room to breathe; she felt she might explode otherwise! She reclined into the massive and comfortable chair, groaning some as her belly ached from the wound. In truth, every part of her ached. Her eyes met her wrist, fingertips hesitant to touch the burn that would be sure to mark her forever. She sighed quietly, raising it to her lips to blow a soft little breeze of frost upon it.
Daisy hasn't been up in Frostmaw for quite some time now! Silly necromancers keeping her in dark places. Oh well. At least you have some fun new things to play with, eh? She smiles and gives her bag a little pat before heaving that heavyass door open. Why is it that the very large enjoy watching the very small struggle with heavy things? Like it is some sort of circus show. Come one! Come all! See the tiny kitten try to move things! Heh. At least she manages the door alright. Eventually. It is shut and she crosses the room, dropping a treat -in a nonchalant fashion of course- into the fire for the creature that lives there. "Hilde." Her smile drops a little when the woman is spotted. "What happened?"
Hildegarde, had she been paying any attention to something other than herself, would have been up like a shot to try and help heave the massive door open. But alas, the kitten was left to struggle on her own as Hilde was lost in her own world. But before long she was snapped out of it as Daisy spoke, looking at her and offering a friendly and polite smile, "M'lady Daisy," she greeted warmly. "Oh... I lost the tournament to Svilfon," she said, a little stung by the loss, but otherwise humble, "It was a well deserved victory on his part."
Daisy knows about tournaments. She's actually been asked to attend a few just in case the participants got a little out of hand. Some people can't defend themselves as they should and a druid comes in handy when there are lives to be saved. She scales one of the massive chairs there at Hilde's table and orders a pot of water. "Are you alright?" Kitten eyes give Hilde an elevator look usually reserved for studying something tasty to eat. Ah, but ladies of the sword can sometimes be such things, kitten. And this lady is quite the dish.
Hildegarde rose from her seat with a suppressed groan, offering polite and strong hands to the kitten to aid her ascent into a large chair. Of course, the kitten need not accept her help, but it was there if she wanted it. Whether she accepted or not, she would sink back into her chair once Daisy was seated - as if she were standing as a lady took her seat - and smiled at the kitten. "I will live, m'lady, us dragons are a difficult lot to kill," she said with an almost charming smile. Fingertips brushed back fiery locks from her face, before she asked her politely, "Can I get you anything?"
[missing post, short summary: Daisy declines and asks if she can get anything for Hilde, while boiling a pot/kettle of water]
Hildegarde smiled at the polite offer, shaking her head in response, "No, m'lady, I am in no need for anything." She offered her a champion smile, one that was friendly; reassuring and full of warmth. It seemed to make the small bruise on her face look out of place, but the Silver thought nothing of it. Her eyes drifted to the boiling water, "What is it you're doing with that..?" she inquired, curious.
Daisy shifts the little teapot in its holder over the candleflame with a smile. "Tea." Not so random things are pulled from her bag and dropped into the pot. To anyone else in the room, it would seem as if she was just dumping a forest into a kettle. But no. Everything dropped is precice and quite particular. The wrong thing from Daisy's bag could very well kill you, you know. It isn't long before that brew fills the air with a spicy aroma. Is that a hint of strawberry? Could be. Little cups and a dish of sugar are brought when asked. "Maybe you would like some?"
Hildegarde, ever the female equivalent of a gentleman, could never refuse the offer of a lady or even a lord. "Of course, m'lady," she said with a smile, "I would be honoured to taste a tea brewed by yourself." She was being polite, as well as sating her own curiosity. She raised a digit, "One moment," she said, as she rose from her seat with a small groan. The stitches in her belly were still delicate; so tender and easily aggravated. She approached the bar and then returned with a small bowl of ice chips. The Silver was a dragon who was attuned to the frost: warm things and her did not often go hand in hand. She wanted the ice in case she found the tea too hot for her liking. But, as is only polite, she would be sure to ask Daisy if it were all right, should the tea be too hot.
Daisy isn't offended in the least! Everyone is different and likes their things the way they like them. She once met a troll that would only eat meat cooked well done. Odd thing to say, but it is true! So the dragoness' want for cooler tea is no mind to Daisy. "Iced tea is delicious too." And while hers is kept hot, she pours and offers the chilled beverage to Hilde.
Hildegarde smiled graciously at the woman, "Thank you, m'lady. Warm things and I are at odds," she commented, before lifting her cup and taking a little sip. "Most delightful," she said, tipping her head gratefully to the feline. "If I might ask," she said gently, "what brings you out here?"
Daisy closes her eyes as she has a sip from her cup. "Mmm. I tend the Queen's garden from time to time." Was Mamoru mentioned before? Probably not. Writers forget details sometimes so we'll just throw this one in. Over there by the firepit is Daisy's fat guardian couatl, flirting with the fire wyrm that lives there. "And Mamoru likes it here."
Hildegarde nodded, before drawing another and longer sip from her cup. "I have not visited the gardens, m'lady, for which I hope you can pardon me for." She had meant to, she simply was caught up in her training and generally being slashed and hacked to pieces. "Mamoru? Brother to Alahir and Kenway?" she said with a bigger smile.
Daisy looks over at her sweet guardian and nods with a wide grin. "Yes. Satoshi gave him to me. Or. She said he chose me. He's very attentive, unless we're here. I think he's in love with the wyrm." Mamoru does the couatl's equilivant of a tongue being sticked out at Daisy before resting his chin on the fireplace's edge.
Hildegarde looked over to Mamoru and smiled. She knew little of love or romantic interest, it was something she had no knowledge on and was very shielded from in truth. "He does look quite enamoured," she commented. "Indeed, they all seem to have chosen their companions. Good choices, I believe, most of the time, anyway."
Daisy curls her feet up under herself as she sips more of her tea. "He doesn't say much. But I think he's happy." She looks back over at Hildeguard with a twitch of her kitten nose. Noses know things, you know. Noses and ears that listen when people tell them they were just in a tourney. And eyes that can see when people aren't moving about as they should. "How are your injuries." Don't lie, dragon lady. She'll strip you unwillingly to look.
Hildegarde took another sip of her tea, but found her sips to be much larger than that of the kitten's. Perhaps she simply had a greater appetite, as dragons were prone to having! "He seems very happy, m'lady. You seem to be a good ward for him, so I cannot see any reason for him to be unhappy." But then the question of her injuries was posed and she finished off the very last remaining bit of her tea, setting the cup back down gently. "They are stitched, m'lady. They will heal in due time," she tried to dance around the question, not lying but not detailing it.
Daisy has very little faith in the administrations of others! She has seen crude work that is so infected, not even the pussfungus could cure it! (lol that sounds so gross) Her cup is set on the table and she stands up on the chair. "Let me see."
Hildegarde, while brave in the face of battle, was not so brave in a tavern full of patrons. "Here, m'lady?" she said, almost bashfully.
Daisy purses her lips. "You are right." Some money is thrown on the table cause for some reason water costs you in places like this, and she hops down from the chair. "Come." And towards the stairs she goes, towards a room she has already paid for. Sometimes a kitten just needs a nice place to stay for a few days!
Hildegarde added a couple of coins of her own to the table, to thank Drargon for his hospitality and kindness while serving. She followed the kitten up the stairs, her movements somewhat stiff and careful, doing her best not to aggravate her wounds or her aches and pains.
Daisy closes the door behind them once they are in the room. It just looks like an ordinary room with a bed and an armchair and a little nightstand. Ordinary until Daisy got there, that is. Full of flora, the entire room seems to breathe just a bit cleaner than the rest of the tavern. Large flowers and crawling vines and fat leaves waving at you... forestry ahoy! So different from the bitter cold of outside. "Now. Show me."
Hildegarde stepped into the room, only to be awed by the fauna that grew in the otherwise lifeless rooms. She smiled, obviously impressed by it. "M'lady, life seems to flourish under your guardianship, if not your very presence," she said softly and truthfully. Now she was being asked to reveal her wounds and she grew bashful once again. "Would it suffice to merely lift the tunic some or do you prefer it off entirely?" the woman had been around healers before, but she was used to far more strict instructions.
Daisy lifts a leaf with the palm of her paw as she walks over to that table so she can place her bag on it. Opened, some of the contents spill out, but that is okay. "Mmm." The shirt doesn't -have- to be off, really. "S'long as I can see what I need to see."
Hildegarde lifted her shirt to reveal the full extent of her abdomen, whilst retaining her modesty. She even blushed at the thought of modesty! The large wound upon her abdomen was just above her navel and the stitching appeared rough; a rushed job that was done to save a life more than anything else. Just below that wound there was a long-healed scar that loped horizontally across, an old wound from a feral Silver's talon. It near gutted her entirely, she was rather lucky to have survived that. She rolled up her sleeves to reveal the badly burnt wrist on her right. Her body was bruised, with a few myriad of scars across her well defined and muscular abdomen. The woman was a mass of muscles, yet she looked as delicate as a kitten in the moment.
Daisy does a very good job concealing her fury. Very few would notice the fury behind those eyes as she takes in the shotty stitchery and unattended burns. Who lets this happen? Who does this to a person? Life saving emergencies are no excuse! "On the bed. Remove the top." She nearly disappears into her bag, looking for certain things that will be explained later so this post isn't so long.
Hildegarde's cheeks turned scarlet at the remark, silvery scales shimmering across her cheeks at the command. She nodded, however, always an obedient woman. She lifted the shirt entirely, a muscular arm across her chest for the sake of decency and modesty. She sat upon the bed with a suppressed groan, watching the kitten quietly. It was hard to believe, upon looking at her, she was so sweet and kind, let alone naive and gentle. She was practically a tangle of muscles with those hulking arms and shoulders. It was unsurprising she had once been confused for a man.
Daisy decides that first things are first and once those are done, second things are second. Handle the easier bit and then... oh my. The kitten smiles softly as she moves over to the bed to sit beside Hilde. "You're quite lovely." Which is quite the compliment since healers see billions of bodies in their lifetime. So what does the kitten have, hm? Two things. One is a common looking stick. Common to anyone but an expert on plants, really. Most people would just pass it by. The other thing she has is a rose. A crystalesque looking blue one that dares to have a bit of frost on it even in this warm tavern room. Ah the magics of Frostmaw. The flower is handled delicately and placed on the blankets beside them while the stick is picked up and snapped in two. "Your wrist..."
Hildegarde blushed a horrendous deal at Daisy's words, silvery scales shimmering across her cheeks in response. "M'lady," she said, before simply allowing it to drop. She had no words to combat compliments, only able to hide behind her fiery locks to hide her bruised face and blushing cheeks. "The wizard shackled it with the molten rock," she said, half placidly, half miserably.
Daisy whispers softly to that stick which softens almost immediately. "This will make you better." The two pieces of stick -that is no bigger than a pinky finger around- are placed side by side and squeezed from the ends. That bit where they snapped in half is held over the burns. From the stick oozes a clear gel that is spread on Hildegarde's wrists. It is cooling, but not to the point of freezing. There is a bit of a minty scent to it that is so faint most people wouldn't detect it. Satisfied with the gel coverage, the stick is exchanged for the flower. Carefully with a pair of claws, she plucks a petal from that flower and places it on the wrist, allowing the gel to hold it in place. The petal bends, forming itself around the wrist before freezing in place. This is repeated until the dragon has a frozen bracelet, soothing and organically healing that burn. "It will release when healed." And Hilde will have a pretty bracelet too!
Hildegarde had expected a sting or some unpleasant sensation, so she had braced herself for it. But yet, no sting came and no unpleasant sensation. Just the cold, the familiar and pleasant cold. She smiled slightly, watching the kitten work and gift her with a beautiful petal bracelet, "It's beautiful, m'lady," she said quietly. Hilde did not own many pretty things, so she would cherish it whilst her wound healed. "I shall think of some way to repay you, m'lady, of this I am sure."
Daisy giggles softly. As if payment is necessary or needed. She holds up a paw with her fingers pressed together and gestures like some sort of italian man of power. "It is a gift." She goes back to her bag to fetch a few more things from her bag. "You should lie down and... maybe think about something not related to your belly."
Hildegarde felt that some kind of repayment was necessary, whether it be a batch of brownies; protection or just friendship. She would do her best to provide whatever it was she could. "A gift I would very much like to repay, m'lady, you have been far too kind to me." At the mention of lying down, she nodded dutifully and lays upon the bed, doing her very best to suppress the groan of pain that dared to leave her throat. Her body was bruised and the wound on her gut ached her. Her arm remained across her chest, "I can handle the pain, m'lady, if that is your worry. If I can face the wizard and live, I can do this," she said with a wry smile.
Daisy moves up beside the bed with an actual sponge from the sea that appears dormant until she whispers to it. The hardened creature bounces to life in her paw, dripping salty water down her arm. "Please be still." Claws flashed, she removes those stitches, undoing the poorly done sewing job. The pieces are tossed aside with more disgust for them than the ugly wound in front of her. "Very still." Bless the dragon, that sponge is dragged over her open wound. Salt stings, you know. Quite a bit. But the sponge cleans and soaks up any impurities that might be in the woman's flesh.
Hildegarde fell deathly still at those words, doing her best to comply with Daisy's words. But as the sponge was dragged across the now open wound, the dragon could hardly keep quiet. If she were to be still, she were to be loud: made clear by the low, rumbling growl that escaped her, as well as the thin veil of frost that billowed from her lips to try and suppress the pain. Her abdomen shrank inwards, before she forced herself to be as still and unmoving as possible, body relaxing on the bed again. "My apologies, m'lady."
Daisy doesn't blame Hilde for being loud. It happens sometimes. She is quite impressed with how still the dragon is being! The burliest of men have flung her across the room when given the seasponge treatment. This is quite pleasant indeed! It doesn't last long though and the sponge is tossed away. "Nearly done," she purrs softly to soothe the silver. Only one more thing to do. The kitten crawls up onto the bed and places a grape-sized seed on Hildegarde's belly at the base of her wound. Paws on the woman's hips, she leans down to whisper at that seed, lips inches from it. On cue, the seed sprouts a sharpened root and pulls away like thread from a spool. Daisy's purring increases in volume as she whispers faster, words Hilde might hear but not understand. Words that send that root in and out of that dragon's flesh in a specific and precice manner. Daisy's nose follows up Hilde's belly, whiskers tickling the dragon's sides as she guides that planty thread on its mending path. Once finished, the seed is clipped free and tossed aside. The kitten curls up against Hildegarde's side and nuzzles her cheek. "You should sleep." The stitches will hold and fall away when ready. Such is a planty way.
Hildegarde could not bear it if she harmed the woman who only sought to help her out. She could not bear to hurt an innocent of any kind, truth be told. At the touch to her hips, she blushed again, considering this was the most physical contact she had had with another sentient being before. Even Maggie, the woman who had healed her before, had not seen this much of her; settling for the Silver to only lift her shirt some. Daisy seemed to enjoy the physical contact, and it did sort of distract the Silver from noticing the little seed and its sharpened root sewing up her gut. Hilde could not explain why she felt so tired. She had done nothing but lie there, after all! Yet she felt exhausted, as if she could do with a well-earned sleep. Stormy eyes closed over and she agreed gently, "Yes, m'lady, sleep would be..." a small yawn, "be most nice." She said quietly and ever so tiredly, before slipping off to sleep with the kitten curled against her side.