Broken Nose and Bottle Necks (March 3010) - [Swithin]
Dec 5, 2018 19:31:44 GMT -5
Post by Adelais on Dec 5, 2018 19:31:44 GMT -5
“Not by mead alone. Sit still a bit, hm? Let me help...”
“Can you use your magician powers to fix my nose, Swithin?” She asked hopefully. Just the night before the man had been explaining he had learned a lot from the captain in regards to special magic—maybe it was part of the reason Ceolmund always seemed to heal so nicely! Or maybe that made Runa the magician…
The girl frowned, and it only thickened as the man spurned her suggestion for special time together; it had been something he had wanted the day before and she had wanted the day before. But now, it seemed it was not a good idea. “Is it because of my nose?” She asked quickly. “Is it ugly now?” She crossed her eyes to try and spy it, but all it did was look red and swollen; maybe there was a looking glass about.
“Come on, honeybug, let’s get you up and off to bed. You can show me that blanket you were telling me all about.”
“It’s green,” she offered quickly, reaching for her stuffed rabbit as she stood on wavy legs and swayed. The whole world felt like it was spinning a moment, but a blink or two had set it right, and she reached for her Ginger’s hand. “This way, Ginger!” She sang, giving him a tug. “It matches Hopsalot’s bow,” she explained, showing the man her rabbit once more. “Here it is! My room! You should go to bed with me. I want to see your magic, Ginger.”
The door swung open to a small bedroom, tidy though sparse in appearance. The quilt on the bed was thin, somewhat ragged from the years it clearly carried. The pillows looked sunken, even fluffed as they sat now; many a night wore heavy upon them, the same as the recessed mattress. The chest at its foot was simple in design, holding what clothing Adelais boasted. The curtains by the bed were faded, drained by sunlight, though yet drawn for their task. The room was dark, the only light that of the hearth spilling in from the sitting room.
“This is where I sleep, and where Hopsalot sleeps!” She tried to skitter forward, though found that Swithin’s grip upon her was a bit too tight for her to manage an escape. “My bed is warm, Ginger--let’s be waaaarm!”
“Can you use your magician powers to fix my nose, Swithin?” She asked hopefully. Just the night before the man had been explaining he had learned a lot from the captain in regards to special magic—maybe it was part of the reason Ceolmund always seemed to heal so nicely! Or maybe that made Runa the magician…
The girl frowned, and it only thickened as the man spurned her suggestion for special time together; it had been something he had wanted the day before and she had wanted the day before. But now, it seemed it was not a good idea. “Is it because of my nose?” She asked quickly. “Is it ugly now?” She crossed her eyes to try and spy it, but all it did was look red and swollen; maybe there was a looking glass about.
“Come on, honeybug, let’s get you up and off to bed. You can show me that blanket you were telling me all about.”
“It’s green,” she offered quickly, reaching for her stuffed rabbit as she stood on wavy legs and swayed. The whole world felt like it was spinning a moment, but a blink or two had set it right, and she reached for her Ginger’s hand. “This way, Ginger!” She sang, giving him a tug. “It matches Hopsalot’s bow,” she explained, showing the man her rabbit once more. “Here it is! My room! You should go to bed with me. I want to see your magic, Ginger.”
The door swung open to a small bedroom, tidy though sparse in appearance. The quilt on the bed was thin, somewhat ragged from the years it clearly carried. The pillows looked sunken, even fluffed as they sat now; many a night wore heavy upon them, the same as the recessed mattress. The chest at its foot was simple in design, holding what clothing Adelais boasted. The curtains by the bed were faded, drained by sunlight, though yet drawn for their task. The room was dark, the only light that of the hearth spilling in from the sitting room.
“This is where I sleep, and where Hopsalot sleeps!” She tried to skitter forward, though found that Swithin’s grip upon her was a bit too tight for her to manage an escape. “My bed is warm, Ginger--let’s be waaaarm!”