Solo Doctor, Doctor

At the end of a wretched day of work, Altaira is driven to one of the more unsavory places.

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Center of scholarly knowledge and shipwrighting, Zeltiva is a port city unlike any other in Mizahar. [Lore]

Doctor, Doctor

Postby Altaira Readva on March 22nd, 2015, 12:54 am


Spring, 515AV | Speech | Thoughts

Altaira broke past the entrance doors of the Infirmary with a beating heart and a frayed mind.

The clothes that she had worn to work that day were the oldest that she owned, with a mere simple shirt, pants, boots and other things- quite obviously nearing the end of their useful lives. That was, at least, if they then were not patched with stains of blood and poultice.

Her mind shuddered and jarred, and with a laboured breath and brisk walk towards to only source of drink she knew of, her mind flooded back to the last half bell of her shift. How young the child, how grizzly the wound, how ever after blood flow was slowed and wound cleaned, the mess was still so wretched that her uniform apron could not save her the clothes she wore from splatter and splash as she and a few other did their best to keep the poor child still.

How she'd prayed that the young boy would still.

How she cursed under her breath, and sent glory to Dira, when it was only death that stopped his movements.

Her shoulders rolled, and feet near caused her to tip and fall herself, as she found herself drawing too close to buildings to her left as she walked, a one hand soon trailed the wall as the other nursed an on coming headache. The little boy kept stealing her thoughts.

He was only a small thing, with powder blonde hair and deep set brown eyes, the dusting of freckles that stretched across his nose hinted that he was one who spent perhaps a little too long in Syna's light. Oh, how terrified he was at the thought of death. What a ghastly little injury he had, too- from whatever it was. Too much blood had been lost, one of the nurses claimed after his eyes were closed and his lifeless body covered by a thin linen sheet, there was nothing they could have done.

A tilting of her head from side to side then followed, and a breath not unlike a low whistle rushed from her lungs. She was no fan of death, not when he or she who passed did not have the proper thought of it- for they are the ones who go on to become unsettling things.

'He was older than Kimi and Kuchi, no?'

Would the boy himself become as they were? Would she soon be hearing his voice and seeing his face long after his body is laid to rest? Children were far more difficult to reason with after they'd passed on, she'd found, stuck as they were with the mind of one too young to understand and respond.
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Altaira Readva
I can wait.
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Joined roleplay: October 22nd, 2013, 6:39 am
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