Dragoncrest Cliffs i gotta get mine, i gotta get it

Noticing the strain of his ribs, she didn’t answer him right then — somehow hearing him despite this altercation — and instead turned, flitting back to her stores. She took this moment to let her countenance falter further, a quivery blur of almost-tears and fury of what had been done to him. But then she was returning to him, chewing a mash of goldenrod and soon massaging it into the tenderness of his ribs, tongue laving studiously.

When she withdrew, a bit of poultice crusting the corner of her lip, she finally said, ”We are still here because those of ze Sound have not retaliated, and I haven’t heard a word of Drageda even budging. I assume some sense has finally returned to Rusalka, if they mean to stay away and provide for their young. But if that is ze case, then why—” Why would that harpy endanger that? Beneath a furrowed brow, her eyes flickered down, to the side; quiet, veiled from him. They needed to move at this point. Her children were not going to be born in such a ravaged state of affairs. Why did there need to be a war to come from this skirmish? Why?

“And you have been asleep for three days since.” Three days. The memory of a child-Vonnaruil rose before her, murky and milky, where the cascades of starlight couldn’t reach. Like him, Vercingetorix had been so — so still. I lost you for three days. A faint tremor made itself known in her jaw, and she mustered away those ridiculous tears; war-nurses such as herself didn’t cry. ”I must redress your throat. Will you stay still for me, Verx?” Her voice was lilting, ever-patient regardless of the sudden emotion that threatened to consume her.

It was getting harder to speak, as if her own throat was closing up; constricting. But she only furrowed her brow more, raised her chin, and set her gleaming eyes upon the smearing of greenery beneath his jaw. Dragomir. What had that harpy reduced her beloved to? Even with him breathing, how could someone have put him in such anguish of himself? Isilmë.

The herbalist tasted salt on her lips as the second name came to her, unbidden, as her tearful gaze clambered into his own. The terror she had endured would never compare to the fear and ferocity Verx felt. It was her rage for him and what that ignoramous harpy had done to him and the chance for further, uneasy stagnantion between the sound and the cliffs.

”Dragostea—“ Aure’s voice crept from her, fragile and fragmented. The hectic remedying of Verx following his incapacitation, she’d mostly smothered every tender thought and feeling in order to bring him to this side of the abyss once more. But now that he was awake and here... she didn’t quite know what to do with herself; with this softening of herself she plainly struggled against. And these tears were so selfish of her, weren’t they?