Closed Hellooooo, nurse! (But seriously, am I gonna be okay?)(Zeal)

[Kallian Windrunner]

"And that's it?" Looking at him for a moment, Kallian nodded. She watched the young boy's form and seemed satisfied, if only for the moment. He had a small training bow due to his size and age, but he was still very strong. The string was held taut and the arrow was neatly placed. His arm was not shaking quite yet; that was good, his strength was growing. She walked up to him and began to nudge him in places on his arm and back to mold his posture. "Not completely straight, but not bad," she said, signing good and impress. "Good form overall. You're definitely getting better, Pyka." The young boy beamed in response. He was six, perhaps seven. Not yet bonded with a strider, but full of potential. "Want to set up some targets?" He nodded his head furiously. "Oh, yes!" "Alright! Let me go get some sheets," she replied, laughing. Stepping back, she looked at the small field. There were a few bails of grass, a request made to her father a couple weeks prior. After a moment, she gave him a wry look. "Practice pulling the string?" He nodded and began to do so. Release, pull. Release, pull. Smiling, she turned and walked towards her nearby pavilion, ducking into the flap to enter the main room. Kallian began to search for old sheets, mostly from her own room. Their next lesson would have much better targets: large sheets with red circles in the middle to him with accuracy. She had not expected him to hold a bow so well, not this far along. Perhaps she was cut out for teaching younger children after all. Kallian left the pavilion with a few bundles of cloth and watched him for a moment. His arm was beginning to shake with effort, though he continued in the heat. Ugh, the heat. She was dressed in a white shirt and leather pants, her hair woven into a single, large braid that rested on her collarbone. Sweat trickled down her back. She wondered how the little boy could keep going without even a bead on his brow. Stepping forward, she called out to him, "I'm going to set up the targets! No arrows! Take a break!" She moved to begin to tied them on the bundles. "O-ok--!!" He fumbled, his arm shaking; rather than letting his arm slide down to release tension, he felt it lock for a breath. Weakened, it released. Kallian heard a thump and felt a flash of pain in the back of her right thigh, a few inches below her buttock. A cry of pain flew through her lips and she involuntarily fell foward. Landing on her hands and knees, she hissed through her teeth as she felt her wrists pop from the impact. Turning to look behind her, she saw a look of horror on Pyka's face, his boyish eyebrows lifted nearly to his hairline. He was staring at a protruding arrow, the source of her pain. She attempted to get up. Pyka snapped to reality and began to cry, rushing off to either find help or to hide in guilt. Clenching her mouth, she picked herself up and began to limp towards the nearest healer she knew of. Kallian resisted the urge to pull the arrow from her leg; she didn't know what sort of vitals laid there. Maybe nothing serious, as she was fully capable of limping. It certainly hurt like hell.

[Zeal Aldercraft]

Zeal put his hands to his thundering head and squeezed. The light filtering into Ankal's healing tent blinded him. He clamped his watery eyes shut and turned his back to the entrance.

He felt his way over to the counter. With the piercing rays of sun to his back, he went about looking for ingredients he needed to put an end to the raging headache tearing his brain apart.

Thank Lhex no one else is working or this would be worse. The thought gave him little consolation. Worse was loosely defined and the train of thought was in danger of derailing. All he wanted to do was get rid of the giant mushroom of pain in his brain.

Easier said than done. His entire body hurt from the last drunken brawl. The whole thing was a blur--the way he wanted it. Any time the details got any clearer, he took another sip of ale, which in turn, dulled the ache of dark bruises littering his stomach, his chest...and Lhex knew else. Those were the only ones he could see.

Zeal’s hands shook as he reached out to grab one of the many jars lining the counter. He paused and waited for the worst of the tremor to pass, but after an eternity he gave up.

Come on stupid hands. Work. If only his body would listen to his brain.

He licked his parched lips and swallowed around the hard lump in his throat. Either he was going to get these herbs crushed up and in his system before his head exploded or he was going to have to finish off that bottle of Baultime's Brew under his bed.

Even though his traitorous hands didn’t stop shaking, he managed to get his fingers around the jar. He emptied out the green herbs into the mortar and pestle and started to grind them.

With sweat dripping down his hairline, he aimed for a stack of empty glass bowls next to the jars, but his bloodshot eyes saw little of the real world apparently. He grabbed what he thought was the top one.

He was wrong.

The pile crashed down on the counter. A bowl shattered on the floor. The noise set his teeth on edge.

Ankal came rushing in, concern etched into his weathered features. He must have heard it all. “What happened? Are you okay? Did anyone get hurt?”

That was always the man’s first concern. He needed everyone to be healthy as much as Zeal needed his dogs back.

“I dropped the bowls. I’m fine. Don't worry about it”

“Are you sure?” His Ankal’s gaze made a beeline for Zeal’s trembling hands. He still held the empty bowl in one.

As usual, Zeal's words fell on deaf ears because the old man never missed a petching thing.

“I said I’m fine. I was putting something together for my head and a bowl slipped out of my hand. I’m almost done now, then I can help you out there.” But he wasn't fine. The truth was, the gentle tone of his voice grated Zeal's nerves worse than his bark ever did.

“If you’re sure.” Ankal looked at him questioningly, but didn’t push. “Just be careful. My mending patients need their rest to be fully healed and any noise that disturbs them impedes their progress." He skimmed over the mess Zeal made. “Why don’t you go home? I can have your sister come in and clean up. You should stay off your feet until you feel better.”

Zeal's grip on the bowl tightened. Typical Pivl. Ankal only ever danced around issues. Addressing any aches and pains that couldn't be healed with magic or an herb mixture was out of his realm of comprehension.

Maybe Ankal was right. Maybe Zeal did need to go back to his tent. Another drink couldn’t have sounded better than it did at that chime.

He eyed the tent flap with bleary eyes. The effort of being in his right mind made him tired and that only made the tremors worse.

The only thing holding him back was the sickening light on the other side.

[Kallian Windrunner]

Kallian limped along alone for a breath or two before a young woman, Shire, rushed over to her, asking what was wrong. She grunted in reply, allowing the other to take her arm and throw it across her shoulders. Doing her best to keep the weight off of her newly bum leg, Kallian hopped along with the greatly appreciated aid; sweat began to bead across the back of her neck as the pain continued to scream. She would feel no relief until the damn thing was pulled out of her, as it moved with every step she took. Each hop caused the tip to wiggle within the meat of her thigh and it was agonizing. Now she knew what a warrior went through during battle... even though she had only been shot on accident by a young boy. Embarrassed at the thought, she huffed. Soon, the woman brought her to a tent, hushing her and giving her words of peace and care and healing. Green-blue eyes peered up to take in the colors of the clan. She realized she had been taken to an Opal tent and the thought gave her comfort. She would be patched up in no time, or at least hoped. The Ankal of her pavilion always boasted about the skills of the Opal, but she had never had the opportunity to visit them. Now here she was, arrow sticking out of the back of her thigh. Kallian wondered how Pyka would react on the longterm. He was undoubtedly a good shot. His arrow, albeit an accident, sunk straight and true and the force behind it was perfect. If he had only held the bow slightly more angled, she would have found it lodged in her back or head. Death probably would have been imminent. She didn't know if he would continue to practice with her, however, though she wished he would. He had talent... but definitely needed to build up more stamina and control. Shire helped her inside, opening the flap of the tent as Kallian ducked under, panting slightly.