As K'mih attempted to clean her father's burns, the conversation between him and the returned miqo'te became heated. She took a few seconds to stare at K'yohko's expression, her lips slightly parted and her eyes almost unable to blink. The Nunh was displaying an aggressive self, possessed by many worries he couldn't hide; a side she hadn't had much of an opportunity to witness. It was worrisome, even scary. Her stoic father being like this could only be an indication that things were truly wrong. However, there was also something oddly fascinating to it, like a rare sight you just couldn't take your eyes away from, even knowing how dangerous it was.
K'mih's trance ended when K'yohko groaned and leaned in slightly towards her, as if the loss of blood was starting to seriously drain his energies. His own anger had contributed to that, and K'mih, being the ignorant girl she always was, hadn't realized it.
"Father..." was an involuntary whisper, barely audible.The hand that wasn't holding the cloth moved to his chest, an attempt to support him and prevent him from losing his balance.
K'zhumi's stern voice was heard then. It was directed at everyone, and this included K'mih, who apparently had been rubbing the cloth in the wrong way. A clumsy mistake that could have consequences more severe than what the girl had imagined.
"I-I'm sorry!" She replied quickly and nervously, scared at the mention of her father dying. The Nunh had always been the strongest miqo'te; even after seeing him injured, the possibility of him being completely defeated by his wounds had barely crossed K'mih's mind. Now, as she looked at his pale form, his weakness started becoming more apparent.
With damp eyes that looked like an apology, she rubbed the cloth harder against his skin. Harder, even if it hurt, even if she had to shut her eyelids close. She was ready to apply the salve next.
K'mih's trance ended when K'yohko groaned and leaned in slightly towards her, as if the loss of blood was starting to seriously drain his energies. His own anger had contributed to that, and K'mih, being the ignorant girl she always was, hadn't realized it.
"Father..." was an involuntary whisper, barely audible.The hand that wasn't holding the cloth moved to his chest, an attempt to support him and prevent him from losing his balance.
K'zhumi's stern voice was heard then. It was directed at everyone, and this included K'mih, who apparently had been rubbing the cloth in the wrong way. A clumsy mistake that could have consequences more severe than what the girl had imagined.
"I-I'm sorry!" She replied quickly and nervously, scared at the mention of her father dying. The Nunh had always been the strongest miqo'te; even after seeing him injured, the possibility of him being completely defeated by his wounds had barely crossed K'mih's mind. Now, as she looked at his pale form, his weakness started becoming more apparent.
With damp eyes that looked like an apology, she rubbed the cloth harder against his skin. Harder, even if it hurt, even if she had to shut her eyelids close. She was ready to apply the salve next.
Clover Blake (Hyur) /Â K'mih Yohko (Miqo'te)