Spooked by her sudden withdrawal due to her bloodied hands, Jorah awkwardly retreated his kind gesture, rubbing his own palms together thoughtfully. He listened to her instructions, his eyes roaming down. Shame overwhelmed him as the direness of blight begin to hit him hard. All around, death. He had never seen such war before. He was out of place, even as a Crow who walked the path of death for many years.
Tenderly and humbly, he lifted the limp frame. As he did, he remembered his son, unconscious after an accident early on in his illness. Sorrowful eyes stared earnestly and thoughtfully at the young one, while the warden took her moment to bark orders to all who dared to bring aid to this sick-camp. Where was this one's family? Meanwhile, the boys gaped. One did not see such community in Antiva.
He broke from his meditation as the warden tipped her head and introduced herself.
[color=orange]"Lana... yes... It is all right,"[/color] he softly forgave her awkward pause, attention drifted to her cut and bloody hands before meeting her own honest face. [color=orange]"I have brought two crates of our very best Antivan Garnacha, and the requested... extracción."[/color] Jorah's heavy Antivan dialect fluttered over the word he hadn't heard spoken often in the South. It was the softest way to describe an herbal poison. Uncomfortably, he rushed into other words and began to walk towards the griffons.
[color=orange]"The griffons, let us bring him. He will find his mother in Amaranthine if there is luck to be had. For the rest,"[/color] he swallowed, [color=orange]"there is at least drink, and, perhaps, a song?"[/color] He glanced cautiously at Lana.
Tenderly and humbly, he lifted the limp frame. As he did, he remembered his son, unconscious after an accident early on in his illness. Sorrowful eyes stared earnestly and thoughtfully at the young one, while the warden took her moment to bark orders to all who dared to bring aid to this sick-camp. Where was this one's family? Meanwhile, the boys gaped. One did not see such community in Antiva.
He broke from his meditation as the warden tipped her head and introduced herself.
[color=orange]"Lana... yes... It is all right,"[/color] he softly forgave her awkward pause, attention drifted to her cut and bloody hands before meeting her own honest face. [color=orange]"I have brought two crates of our very best Antivan Garnacha, and the requested... extracción."[/color] Jorah's heavy Antivan dialect fluttered over the word he hadn't heard spoken often in the South. It was the softest way to describe an herbal poison. Uncomfortably, he rushed into other words and began to walk towards the griffons.
[color=orange]"The griffons, let us bring him. He will find his mother in Amaranthine if there is luck to be had. For the rest,"[/color] he swallowed, [color=orange]"there is at least drink, and, perhaps, a song?"[/color] He glanced cautiously at Lana.
06-15-2023, 03:40 PM
