Title: How far do I have to go
Description: tag; Brody!
Amaya Nassaf - April 29, 2011 03:09 AM (GMT)
Restocking her medical supplies was no simple matter. It had taken her many, many months to become familiar with the common herbs and materials that this strange, rocky land had to offer. She knew there were still many out there, waiting to be discovered. Even the most abundant plants were not always so easy to find, because this land was not kind to such delicate life. Lately, Amaya found herself forging deeper and deeper into the wilds, sometimes spending days outside of the city walls. It made her feel frantic to be gone for such a long time. How many people came to her hut on those nights that she wasn't there, needing her but unable to find her? It was not an entirely logical way of thinking about things. She wasn't the only healer among the refugees, but she was one of the few that did not demand payment (though people often rewarded her efforts with spare food and blankets, and other such necessary items). And Amaya had been raised to feel responsible for other people. Because Fanu had decreed that she was not a demon, as they had feared, but sent by the gods. That meant that she had a duty to fulfill.
The young woman stood on an open, rocky slope, gazing out at the sparse little valley that sprawled before her. The wind that teased about her face and tugged at her dark hair smelled of salt and stone and something else that she still couldn't quite decipher. She dug in the little pack that hung from her shoulder and pulled out a small piece of dried jerky -- exactly what kind of meat it was, she wasn't sure. But it was sustenance, so it was good enough for her. She had been gone for three days and nights already, soon it would be time to turn back. She frowned at the thought, because she hadn't been able to gather near as many supplies as she would have hoped.
A low rumble had Amaya's head whipping around just in time to see several large rocks and boulders go tumbling past her not ten feet away. They bounced and skipped down the slope, kicking dust and dirt into the air with the commotion. She felt a flash of fear -- this was a valley well-known for its population of hares and other rodents, which meant it was a popular hunting ground. What if there was someone at the bottom of the hill? The wind was blowing hard enough that the sound of it might block out the low rumble of the rocks. Hoping that her fears were unfounded, Amaya began to make her way down the slope, moving as quickly as the uneven terrain would allow.
Brody Adelard - April 29, 2011 04:12 PM (GMT)
Brody was quite the hunter.
He had picked up the skills required for a good hunt in his youth, and he had continued to develop them in adulthood. While hunting was once something he did for sport, it had become an important part of his livelihood years ago. He had hunted to feed himself and he had hunted to feed others so that they would repay him in coin . . . or a bit of kindness. Sometimes he hunted merely to help others with the pelts and meat he could offer them, but he knew he wasn't so selfless as those occasional gestures of kindness might have suggested.
On this day he was hunting in the hope of being able to get a few good catches he could sell. He had only returned to Escova a short while ago, and now he had to focus on getting back into his business there. Most of the people he wanted to know about his return had been informed that he hadn't died or run back to the mainland. At this point it was just a matter of falling back into his old routine and ensuring that old business relationships were reestablished, despite his sudden disappearance.
He was crouched before a large hare when he heard it- a rumbling that suggested danger. Unfortunately, he had been gifted with a sense for lies rather than a solid sense of good hearing. He lifted his gaze to stare with some alarm to his right, searching for the source of the sound. Instead he should have looked right in front of him.
A large rock in motion hit another buried in the earth in its descent and launched off the ground. It struck Brody's shoulder and seemed to pass right through it as he twisted and fell back. Eyes closed tightly, he grimaced and groaned, pressing a an unsteady hand over rapidly bruising flesh as he hoped to recover. His other hand pushed against the ground to prop him up a bit as he hurried to check for other bits of stone coming his way, but rocks fell around him, and a blurry look at the slope ahead revealed nothing coming for him.
He fell back onto the ground for a moment of rest as the pain in his shoulder sickened his stomach. With his eyes closed again and his sense of hearing overwhelmed and ignored, he failed to realize that he wasn't alone.
Of course, even his pride might have failed to allow him to put on a show of invincibility in this moment, had he known that there was a lady nearby.
Amaya Nassaf - April 29, 2011 06:30 PM (GMT)
By the time Amaya reached the bottom of the slope, her own feet were battered and bleeding. The dull, throbbing pain reminded the woman yet again that she needed to take the time to make a proper pair of shoes. These strips of cloth held together with string were not suitable for this terrain. A low groan revealed the man's presence, and in a matter of seconds Amaya was at his side. She lifted an arm across her face, using the crook of her elbow to protect her mouth and nose from the thick dust that still clouded the air.
"Get up, chora! We cannot stay here. More stones may fall!" She crouched beside him, slipping her free hand behind his neck, both to help him sit up and to feel for open wounds. Her thick hair fell across her face, and this might have been irritating under other circumstances but for the moment it kept the dirt from getting into her eyes. She glanced behind her at the steep slope she had just descended, searching for clouds of dust or other signs that the rock-slide was not over. Her head throbbed with red-and-orange flashes, and she gritted her teeth against the ache in her own body.
It looked like she would have to use some of those supplies before she even got them back to the city. She let out a low hiss and turned back to the injured man, hoping that he would be able to walk on his own so that she wouldn't have to drag him.
Brody Adelard - April 29, 2011 07:53 PM (GMT)
It took him more than a short moment to realize that someone was talking to him, but he felt her touch. At that he groaned again, the sound more frustrated than it had been before. He realized suddenly that it was a woman talking to him with all that urgency. It was a woman telling him he had to move. It was her hand on him.
With no small amount of difficulty, he pushed himself up on a forearm as his eyes opened narrowly. He coughed, simultaneously catching sight of the dust in the air and feeling the offense of it in his throat. The coughing sent pain shooting through his shoulder and arm as he pushed against the ground more to allow him to sit up completely. As he turned his gaze to the woman to try to get a glimpse at her, he realized she had called him something strange . . .
"What the-" he grumbled, moving his gaze to the apparently unpredictable slope.
His stomach seemed to rise up into his throat as the pain in his sagging shoulder persisted.
Somehow he hadn't forgotten the power in asking questions. He considered asking for her name as he tried to get to his feet sooner than later, but instead he asked, "You okay?" as he started to get up onto unsteady legs, letting the arm attached to his throbbing shoulder hang limply beside him.
It seemed like the more important question to get out of the way, and he would know if she was trying to lie to him . . . hopefully. He had found it was somewhat difficult to separate lies from truth when pain was involved on either end.
Amaya Nassaf - April 30, 2011 02:57 AM (GMT)
She moved to help steady him, keeping a grip on his good arm just in case he started to fall over again. His sagging arm indicated the location of his injury, and she was relieved to see no apparent blood on his head or face. That was good. An injured shoulder was painful, but it wasn't fatal. Once he was on his feet she immediately attempted to pull him away from the place where he had fallen. There was an overhanging shelf of rock not far to their east, and she aimed for that. Perhaps Amaya was being over-cautious, but was there really a such thing as being too careful? She shot another look at the place where the rocks had fallen, and decided that in this case a little bit of extra caution couldn't hurt anything.
At his question she slanted him a glance, taking a small step to the side to put some distance between them, and releasing her hold on his arm. He didn't seem to be grievously injured, and if he could walk on his own she would not crowd him.
"I am okay, yes." It was the truth, other than her bruised, bleeding feet. But there was no sense in drawing attention to her own hurts when she knew that she could fix herself up just fine. He, on the other hand, would need some quick attention to that shoulder and arm. She wasn't sure just how extensive the damage was, but the way he let it hang so limply caused her brow to furrow with concern.
"You will let me look at your arm, yes? I am a Healer." She lifted the medicine bag that hung from her shoulder as though that would explain it all.
Brody Adelard - May 6, 2011 04:59 AM (GMT)
Brody failed to pick up on any indicators of the woman's lack of sincerity as she answered his question, and although he realized pain's ability to lessen his sensitivity to a lie, he believed that she was being honest. At the very least she believed she was alright, unharmed, and her lack of distress was enough to ease his mind for a moment as he found his balance and managed to walk almost steadily beside her.
Clutching the arm attached to his injured shoulder, he tried to keep it steady. Each subtle movement sent pain through his shoulder and collarbone that he was poorly equipped to deal with at its current intensity. Keeping the arm as still as possible seemed to help matters, though even without movement, pain was present.
At her question, he smiled slightly, doing his best not to grimace though the narrowing of his eyes was unmistakable as a sign of his discomfort. "Yeah," he decided as he looked to her. "I won't say no to that. You can even touch it, if you'd like."
She was pretty- really pretty, he realized. He couldn't help but find humor in these situations, agonizing (quite literally) though they were -- especially in the presence of a pretty lady.
"You have my thanks for the help," he added, intending to sound pleased and grateful but failing as half of his statement came out like a groan, his brow furrowing as he realized he had accidentally moved something he shouldn't have.
This was going to prove to be a very inconvenient injury, it seemed- not good for a man recently returned from hiding and in need of coin.