Jancis sat at Ryanti’s bedside, watching him sleep. She took a slow deep breath. What she had seen was much different and for all accounts the healer had some confidence in knowing voices. Something survived inside of him, causing the odd veins to appear on the fighter’s skin and through his eye.
The feeling in her heart was right, to meet up with him while travelling for the state the half-miqo’te was poor. She didn’t know how he could manage walking on his knee for so long; the tolerance of pain extreme. Doing what she could at the time to reduce the swelling and give it a chance to start repairing the strains on it, it would still take a fortnight to properly heal, much of her concentration had to go into the odd voices that he shared with her unwillingly. What were they? Not corrupted, at least at first impression (but such things were treacherous and know for deceit) or elemental. Like another life within a host, a leech of sorts. It had heard her and stopped when she asked, more to her surprise.
Heading back outside the farmers, travelling merchants, and passengers looked at her. Many saw the seen of them on the hillside sitting, her telling the man how could he not see he was in pain. Demanding for it to stop then carrying him back with an arm over the midlander’s shoulder. Word would spread of the peculiar public display.
She gathered up their belongings she had left outside the hostel while getting him back to bed for rest, and took out some parchment to write. She could possibly miss meeting up the mysterious Engelbert; it was a hard choice. While Engelbert showed he could be a threat, he hadn’t caused harm to Barengar or anyone else she knew of. Ryanti was wounded and struggling to recover. Her heart ached knowing the right choice, and wrote the Ala Mhigan.
Sending the letter off, she sat down once more on the corner of the man’s bed, looking over his face as the midday became evening. “Precious†she repeated quietly. “ Of all possessions a friend is the most precious.â€
The feeling in her heart was right, to meet up with him while travelling for the state the half-miqo’te was poor. She didn’t know how he could manage walking on his knee for so long; the tolerance of pain extreme. Doing what she could at the time to reduce the swelling and give it a chance to start repairing the strains on it, it would still take a fortnight to properly heal, much of her concentration had to go into the odd voices that he shared with her unwillingly. What were they? Not corrupted, at least at first impression (but such things were treacherous and know for deceit) or elemental. Like another life within a host, a leech of sorts. It had heard her and stopped when she asked, more to her surprise.
Heading back outside the farmers, travelling merchants, and passengers looked at her. Many saw the seen of them on the hillside sitting, her telling the man how could he not see he was in pain. Demanding for it to stop then carrying him back with an arm over the midlander’s shoulder. Word would spread of the peculiar public display.
She gathered up their belongings she had left outside the hostel while getting him back to bed for rest, and took out some parchment to write. She could possibly miss meeting up the mysterious Engelbert; it was a hard choice. While Engelbert showed he could be a threat, he hadn’t caused harm to Barengar or anyone else she knew of. Ryanti was wounded and struggling to recover. Her heart ached knowing the right choice, and wrote the Ala Mhigan.
Quote:Dear Barengar,
I stay at the Red Rooster Stead outside of the Mist. I know not how long I will be here. I was bidden by Sir Ryanti; he is wounded and needs help. Something happened beyond physical injuries, voices. I will not leave him alone and feel I should watch him through the night.
Doing that, I might miss meeting up with Engelbert, if he answers my missive. Even if I do not, I am unsure the next time I will sleep and rest. I feel in my heart I should go to the Wench after I feel assured Sir of Ryanti’s condition; he is too weak to explain what happened just now.
I know you will be safe. I always think of it though. My thoughts are never far from you; they cross through all I have.
Jancis
Sending the letter off, she sat down once more on the corner of the man’s bed, looking over his face as the midday became evening. “Precious†she repeated quietly. “ Of all possessions a friend is the most precious.â€
![[Image: hpThOka.png]](http://i.imgur.com/hpThOka.png)
