Sunbeam Lair Why are we tomorrow

The sight of the male had made her undoubtedly cautious, though she knew he wouldn't try anything with so many others around—or, in the very least, she hoped that he wouldn't be that foolish. She'd found herself lingering close to Ukko as she advanced forward, never taking a step until he was felt at her side. The welcoming received from Avannon had been heard but not acknowledged due to her focus lingering on the injured man, wondering how severe the injury was, as well as wondering if she had the means to fix him. Of course, the answers she wished to received could never reach her if she didn't get close enough to inspect him, and so the distance between them had eventually been closed. Never had she reached out to touch him, though, refusing to do so for any number of reasons.

In spite of all the thoughts that swam through her mind, nothing had been capable of preparing her for what he'd requested: for her to kill him. At first, she was taken aback and truly shocked by his desire to die. That very same shock had quickly morphed into anger, however, a rare event taking place as a glare settled into her gaze. "You know very well that I am unable to kill you," she'd said in return, moving a step closer so that she might be able to hover over him. "You have wronged me, Jolon, and you will not escape the process of restoring your honour through death. You will live so that you might fix that which you have broken." The dragoness' word was final, her tone having left no room open for an argument to form. Just as she'd done with Gray, the girl would give to the hurt male an opportunity to restore himself.

Looking to Menta, she'd chuffed lightly to draw the other female's attention her way. "Have you any knowledge in the field of plant identification?" she'd asked, knowing that a certain one might need to be collected for her. There existed within her mind no memories of having ever harvested comfrey, and so she was certain that she was in need of some. "I will also need two sturdy sticks, a rock, and someone to assist in the relocation of Jolon." Setting the bone—she'd noticed earlier how odd the limb looked, and had quickly figured out that it was fractured—would be a crude task, she knew, but it would be better than the alternative of letting the injury go untreated until death came to claim him.