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Post by Faron Rhys on Nov 11, 2017 20:40:48 GMT
It had been two weeks. Two. fucking. Weeks.
Rhea had sunk as low and completely abandoned him and their infant daughter for two weeks. Luckily his brother had connections to wet nurses who could help and between the both of them, they took turns on watching the poor child. Had it not been from his own frustration of the disappearance of Rhea she probably wouldn’t have even been named. He spent nights up trying to think of a perfect name for the squalling infant until finally coming up with one he could tolerate in calling her. Raelynn. It seemed to fit at least.
He had no idea of what he was doing but he had to say he was doing a pretty damn good job on his own [with the small help of his brother, fortunately]. No less he was proud of the success of it but for Rhea’s sake, she had better hope he didn’t get his hands on her.
Sighing quietly he pushed the thought out of his head. Raelynn was with his brother and he was taking a break before he ended up punching someone. He wasn’t fit to be a father. He didn’t have the right temperament for it but he was doing a hell of a lot better than Rhea was. He was there at least. He cared. She obviously didn’t.
His surroundings were dark a bit of smoke lingering in the air from surrounding smokers as he kept his head low, fiddling with a bottle in between his fingers. He remembered he was in this same position when he came back into town. He had been gone for so long and part of him now wished he wouldn’t have come back. If he knew it would have landed him here he probably wouldn’t have. Hazel eyes lifted briefly when someone else walked in for a moment watched before going back to his drink in front of him. Lifting the bottle to his lips he took a swig of what was left and quietly rose to his feet and headed back to the bar about to ask for another. Slipping passed a few people who thought it was clearly okay to be standing in front of the only possible opening to the bar, he tapped the wood. ”Another please.” he lifted the bottle nodding his head as the bartender went to nab him another. It was about then someone ran right into him.
”Fucking goddess above.” he growled. His hazel eyes moved towards the person. ”You mind?” [All welcome! Don't mind him being a bear, he'll loosen up]
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Head Healer
Flexible.
Single.
Fae
Authored by Sian.
Offline.
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Post by Tempest Meadowlark on Nov 13, 2017 23:49:55 GMT
a quick temper...
Although her father had never left the confines of the Niwetri forest, Tempest had no such qualms. Her explorations regularly took her into the Dryhtwood Forest, and one particularly memorable trek gave her her first glimpses of the Sakari Wildes. But her travels very rarely took her out of the confines of a more natural setting – into the towns and cities. As Head Healer, her father had commanded a certain amount of respect. If people wished to be healed by him and those he had personally trained, they travelled to the infirmary. Otherwise, they sufficed with the self-professed healers, or those that had been sent away from his tutelage for whatever reason. Tempest didn't like that practice. Surely the sickest people should not be moved – surely they were worth leaving your home comforts for? That's what she had decided she was going to do – she would seek out the worst cases and go to the families to treat them where they were with people they knew, that loved them and would be able to carry on administering their treatment after she left. And people said that she had no heart.
This particular patient had taken her three days to reach – the one downside to her plan. Quite often, by the time she received word and managed to get to them, the patients had passed away, or simply grown better. Thankfully, the families always seemed to appreciate the sentiment, and she rarely left empty-handed. And while she was abroad, Tempest would always check for newly sick people before she departed – there was no point, she reasoned, in getting home to find a message sending her all the way back.
This woman, however, had still been bedridden when she'd reached the city, and although she hated to admit it, at first Tempest had been stumped. Her symptoms didn't seem typical of any particular illness or disease, and they matched no reactions to poisons that she had ever come across. It was only through over two hours of questions with no apparent direction that the truth became apparent. The silly girl had tried to mix herself a weight loss potion and had added far too much konjac. After getting angry at the little idiot, berating her for not using a mixture prepared by someone who knew what they were doing, Tempest pulled a few herbs from her case and mixed them together, binding them with gum arabic into seven small pellets. She gave the girl the first, leaving the rest to set before she tipped them into a small pouch, entrusting them to the ever-present mother.”One a day until they're gone – and don't let her do it again, for I shan't return if she does.”
The idiocy of some people made Tempest despair, and though it was uncommon, she decided to delay her return to the forest and stay a while at the tavern. She weaved well enough through most people, but as she had the bar in sight, she forgot about the whole 'avoiding people' thing – there weren't enough people in the forest to have to circumvent in such a fashion – and managed to crash right into the back of someone. Now, there's nothing in Tempest's past that would indicate that she would have been nice to the victim, but his reaction cemented hers. Her eyes flashed, and her arms crossed over her chest as her gaze met his. ”Not at all. Do you?” Her tone was almost conversational, but her posture screamed 'back off'.
... will make a fool of you soon enough.
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