1st of Summer, 514 AV
Curious, ambitious, caring...Alyra often labelled herself with these words. She was often blinded by her passion for learning, allowing herself to jump into ponds where she wasn't exactly the "big fish." Though she was full of care for her lessons and loved ones, she was, sadly, not careful. This time around, this care-free attitude led her into a pond that had a devastatingly mean big fish: Scat.
Scat, Alyra's aptly named bird, was the newfound bane of her existence. It was a malicious soul with cruel intentions that would rival even the most skilled torturer. With its eyes set on murder, this creature had viciously attacked both the Eth and her beloved cat, Nash. Alyra was fortunate enough to escape the bird's rage with only minor cuts on her face and arms. Nash, however, was not as fortunate.
Nash has sustained a few serious looking cuts during the whole ordeal. Two horizontal slashes ran the length of the small cat's upper chest, just large enough for a sliver of under-flesh to show through. On his left front paw, three slits cut through Nash's skin. These cuts wrapped around almost his entire leg. The fur around the cuts was matted with dried blood, causing Nash limited mobility. Anytime he would attempt to move, the fur would tug at the wounded skin and the cat would cry out.
Alyra hadn't known what to do with the wounds; she only knew which herbs to eat to get rid of certain pains. Instead of trying to clumsily patch the injuries, Alyra had wrapped the cat in her jacket and hoped for the best. Now, as she looked down at her companion, she wished she had tried to do something more: Nash had a lazy look in his eyes. It was an ominous laziness, the kind that ate away your hope and pulled teardrops from your eyes. The normal curiosity that visibly pulsed through Nash's veins had faded away and been replaced with lethargy; his eyes and ears no longer twitched at the first sign of an investigation, his tail did not sway happily, his nose no longer smelled adventure. Instead, he just gazed up at Alyra.
Alyra did not look her best, either. Her eyes hung low, heavy from her journey, and her spirits hung even lower. In her rush to get help for Nash, she had done nothing to the scrapes and cuts that littered the right side of her face and both arms. A few of the smallest ones had already begun to scab over, while the biggest one had only stopped bleeding a few bells ago.
As The Sanctuary came into view, Alyra spirits lifted. She had been searching for some sort of clinic since the night before. After interrogating many concerned Riverians, she had heard of this place. Now that she had found it, she was ecstatic.
"Hang in there Nash," Alyra cooed as she picked up the pace. "These people will help us." She had said these same words many times since they left the city; they soothed her more than the cat.
When she reached the main entrance of The Sanctuary, Alyra was nearly running. She would have ran all the way, right up to the healer, but she was overwhelmed by the place. When some of the denizens had told her that it was something akin to a ranch, Alyra had pictured a single building surrounded by vast pastures. This, however, was not true. Pens of animals were everywhere, with just as many buildings on site.
"Excuse me," Alyra reached out to a pale woman with her left hand and tightly cradled her bundled jacket with her right. Finding The Sanctuary had renewed some of the strength in the Eth's voice, though it still sounded weak. Mostly it sounded hopefully."Which building is the healing clinic?"
Scat, Alyra's aptly named bird, was the newfound bane of her existence. It was a malicious soul with cruel intentions that would rival even the most skilled torturer. With its eyes set on murder, this creature had viciously attacked both the Eth and her beloved cat, Nash. Alyra was fortunate enough to escape the bird's rage with only minor cuts on her face and arms. Nash, however, was not as fortunate.
Nash has sustained a few serious looking cuts during the whole ordeal. Two horizontal slashes ran the length of the small cat's upper chest, just large enough for a sliver of under-flesh to show through. On his left front paw, three slits cut through Nash's skin. These cuts wrapped around almost his entire leg. The fur around the cuts was matted with dried blood, causing Nash limited mobility. Anytime he would attempt to move, the fur would tug at the wounded skin and the cat would cry out.
Alyra hadn't known what to do with the wounds; she only knew which herbs to eat to get rid of certain pains. Instead of trying to clumsily patch the injuries, Alyra had wrapped the cat in her jacket and hoped for the best. Now, as she looked down at her companion, she wished she had tried to do something more: Nash had a lazy look in his eyes. It was an ominous laziness, the kind that ate away your hope and pulled teardrops from your eyes. The normal curiosity that visibly pulsed through Nash's veins had faded away and been replaced with lethargy; his eyes and ears no longer twitched at the first sign of an investigation, his tail did not sway happily, his nose no longer smelled adventure. Instead, he just gazed up at Alyra.
Alyra did not look her best, either. Her eyes hung low, heavy from her journey, and her spirits hung even lower. In her rush to get help for Nash, she had done nothing to the scrapes and cuts that littered the right side of her face and both arms. A few of the smallest ones had already begun to scab over, while the biggest one had only stopped bleeding a few bells ago.
As The Sanctuary came into view, Alyra spirits lifted. She had been searching for some sort of clinic since the night before. After interrogating many concerned Riverians, she had heard of this place. Now that she had found it, she was ecstatic.
"Hang in there Nash," Alyra cooed as she picked up the pace. "These people will help us." She had said these same words many times since they left the city; they soothed her more than the cat.
When she reached the main entrance of The Sanctuary, Alyra was nearly running. She would have ran all the way, right up to the healer, but she was overwhelmed by the place. When some of the denizens had told her that it was something akin to a ranch, Alyra had pictured a single building surrounded by vast pastures. This, however, was not true. Pens of animals were everywhere, with just as many buildings on site.
"Excuse me," Alyra reached out to a pale woman with her left hand and tightly cradled her bundled jacket with her right. Finding The Sanctuary had renewed some of the strength in the Eth's voice, though it still sounded weak. Mostly it sounded hopefully."Which building is the healing clinic?"