Lion Head Mesa kyōchikutō ♧

the girl maggie was nothing but a husk, her eyes shut, her wound a crusting mess, but there had been life there - breath.
tamar worried over her and satsu stepped away, frowning, and then sharply subdued her suggestion: you will not.
the taste hadn't left her mouth.
no-one, even lowly born as that bawdy harlot, deserved to fester in such a way, or waste slowly within view, with other more important things occuring.
satsu looked to tamar and leaned in close enough to smell the dust of autumn in her coat, and commanded of her one thing.
find the one called slate, servant to the bear man. they have their own medicines to spare for maggie.
it wasn't charity that spawned this idea.
better to have her slip away to endless sleep than waste more precious medicines, with the war looming.
go! better that than you hovering after me.