Hope (Wyn, Open) December 3010
Nov 27, 2017 19:43:52 GMT -5
Post by Wyn on Nov 27, 2017 19:43:52 GMT -5
Her first impression upon gaining some degree of consciousness was that the chill in the room seemed to have gone. She still ached down to her very bones, but that was from injury and fever, rather than ghostly presence. Through her hazy mind, she could hear voices, but was unable to make out who it was or what they were saying. The girl groaned quietly and shifted, dimly aware that she was lying on blankets rather than a cold floor. Where was she? What was she doing here?
Memories began to bubble to the surface. Adan. The wraiths. The Healing Hall. Alarm stirred within her--the last thing she could remember was watching them cleave apart an unlucky patient. She managed to claw her way back to consciousness, forcing her eyes open with a grunt of pain. No wraiths, just lots of blood. That was right, they had been driven off--though not without a heavy price. Fire, she remembered, seemed to have worked better on them than blades. The blonde healer was standing by her bed, and Wyn squinted at her face, trying to get her eyes to focus again. Her vision swam and everything felt like a graug had sat on her, but she clung stubbornly to consciousness.
The wraiths may have been gone, but that still left the question of her friend's fate. Concerned jolted her, and she attempted to sit up, only to flop back down again as the world seemed to tilt wildly, nauseating her. Perhaps she was better waiting for her punished body to recover before she attempted that again. She managed to turn her head instead, catching sight of the elf settled in the adjacent cot, and let out a relieved sigh. He looked even worse than her, but that deathly paleness seemed to have lessened, and his eyes no longer glowed like coals. "Told you I wasn't gonna give up on ya," she murmured to him, her words slurred.
Memories began to bubble to the surface. Adan. The wraiths. The Healing Hall. Alarm stirred within her--the last thing she could remember was watching them cleave apart an unlucky patient. She managed to claw her way back to consciousness, forcing her eyes open with a grunt of pain. No wraiths, just lots of blood. That was right, they had been driven off--though not without a heavy price. Fire, she remembered, seemed to have worked better on them than blades. The blonde healer was standing by her bed, and Wyn squinted at her face, trying to get her eyes to focus again. Her vision swam and everything felt like a graug had sat on her, but she clung stubbornly to consciousness.
The wraiths may have been gone, but that still left the question of her friend's fate. Concerned jolted her, and she attempted to sit up, only to flop back down again as the world seemed to tilt wildly, nauseating her. Perhaps she was better waiting for her punished body to recover before she attempted that again. She managed to turn her head instead, catching sight of the elf settled in the adjacent cot, and let out a relieved sigh. He looked even worse than her, but that deathly paleness seemed to have lessened, and his eyes no longer glowed like coals. "Told you I wasn't gonna give up on ya," she murmured to him, her words slurred.