Ruth’s nostrils flared and the scowl across his face deepened with her play on his words. Peeling her jerkin aside he’d cast a quick glance at the seeping wound before back to her face. “You don’t get out of it that easily, Dotti.” Focusing back to where his hands were already making sigils and signs of healing, the elf began the meticulous task of mending vessels.
The stubbornness of dwarves was legendary, and mostly the cause of the misfortune that would befall them. All or nothing. Some like her, others… well, there was a reason the Merchant Guild could sway economies. Though, words falling from her shock-addled mind caused his head to lift, a smug grin beginning to replace the frowned corners. “Did you just call me ‘Pretty?’” Teeth flashed at her, and he’d wink. “You think I’m pretty.” Brows shrugged, nay, dared to wiggle at her before he focused on the mending.
The lids of his eyes closed over, hands drew invisible patterns against an orb of green energy pressed against her skin. Ruth seemed to draw threads together, tying them in between knots of signs, performing delicate surgery on the axe-wielding beauty. There was always a calm that came with his gift. While the spirit he carried was one of compassion, the emotion and vocation had always dwelt within him, only masked, carefully shielded away. He’d suffered and seeing others, even some of those who’d deserve it, didn’t sit well with him.
Neither did he believe in seeking praise for the kindness he did exhibit. If too many people found out his reputation for being an unattached freeman would be undone. Megara already asked enough of him already.
“Grown woman who needs a babysitter. What are you, six? This gonna hurt.” he’d snark back, peeking one eye open at her for a brief moment. Throughout, Ruth continued to breath steadily, deep grounding breaths to salvage the organ completely. Pleased, his palms pushed the woven pattern of threaded strands into the wound, hands now splayed over the flesh of her side as magic vibrated through. “You’re not fully done, but I need to wait between spells, see how you take the first wave.”
Maintaining the flow of magic with one hand, Ruth tried to check the rest of her for more injuries, knowing it would be just like her to not say anything more bothered her than the obvious. Next she’d be telling him two days from now, she’d fractured something and only now it was bothering her. “Now Dotti, you do surprise me, on both counts. Chains jingle, you know, 'dinner and a show', but you enjoy following my scent? Well, now I’m certainly flattered.” That wink again was thrown her way, drifting off again to get a read on the injury, pleased that she was out of any immediate danger of passing over. No. Not when he now had shit to tease her with.
“Yes,” grin sobering with the amount of pain she was in. “Let me help with that too. Later I'll give you a toke of my pipe. Got that Stoner’s batch again. Complete mistake of course, her tobacco pouch looks exactly like my own, huh, must fix that.” No he wouldn’t and he knew Megara wouldn’t mind either. Chuckling, Ruth turned to focus on numbing her pain some, while the fingers poised against her side still manipulated strings of mending.
The stubbornness of dwarves was legendary, and mostly the cause of the misfortune that would befall them. All or nothing. Some like her, others… well, there was a reason the Merchant Guild could sway economies. Though, words falling from her shock-addled mind caused his head to lift, a smug grin beginning to replace the frowned corners. “Did you just call me ‘Pretty?’” Teeth flashed at her, and he’d wink. “You think I’m pretty.” Brows shrugged, nay, dared to wiggle at her before he focused on the mending.
The lids of his eyes closed over, hands drew invisible patterns against an orb of green energy pressed against her skin. Ruth seemed to draw threads together, tying them in between knots of signs, performing delicate surgery on the axe-wielding beauty. There was always a calm that came with his gift. While the spirit he carried was one of compassion, the emotion and vocation had always dwelt within him, only masked, carefully shielded away. He’d suffered and seeing others, even some of those who’d deserve it, didn’t sit well with him.
Neither did he believe in seeking praise for the kindness he did exhibit. If too many people found out his reputation for being an unattached freeman would be undone. Megara already asked enough of him already.
“Grown woman who needs a babysitter. What are you, six? This gonna hurt.” he’d snark back, peeking one eye open at her for a brief moment. Throughout, Ruth continued to breath steadily, deep grounding breaths to salvage the organ completely. Pleased, his palms pushed the woven pattern of threaded strands into the wound, hands now splayed over the flesh of her side as magic vibrated through. “You’re not fully done, but I need to wait between spells, see how you take the first wave.”
Maintaining the flow of magic with one hand, Ruth tried to check the rest of her for more injuries, knowing it would be just like her to not say anything more bothered her than the obvious. Next she’d be telling him two days from now, she’d fractured something and only now it was bothering her. “Now Dotti, you do surprise me, on both counts. Chains jingle, you know, 'dinner and a show', but you enjoy following my scent? Well, now I’m certainly flattered.” That wink again was thrown her way, drifting off again to get a read on the injury, pleased that she was out of any immediate danger of passing over. No. Not when he now had shit to tease her with.
“Yes,” grin sobering with the amount of pain she was in. “Let me help with that too. Later I'll give you a toke of my pipe. Got that Stoner’s batch again. Complete mistake of course, her tobacco pouch looks exactly like my own, huh, must fix that.” No he wouldn’t and he knew Megara wouldn’t mind either. Chuckling, Ruth turned to focus on numbing her pain some, while the fingers poised against her side still manipulated strings of mending.
03-01-2024, 06:57 PM
