Unanswered Prayers - Printable Version +- 'Souls IPB Archive (November 2007–October 2012) (https://soulsrpg.com/ipb) +-- Forum: Dead IC (https://soulsrpg.com/ipb/forumdisplay.php?fid=110) +--- Forum: Dead Topics (https://soulsrpg.com/ipb/forumdisplay.php?fid=21) +--- Thread: Unanswered Prayers (/showthread.php?tid=23106) Pages:
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- Swentzle Byström - 12-06-2011 [html] Heee so excited for this thread. <3 Is it alright if we forward-date it a couple days to the 9th? Also, hover for translation! <3 Word Count → 551 Swentzle had gotten curious shortly after meeting with Kiara, and moved farther south, passing through the Dampwoods--and another woodland, though he didn't know it--to explore farther south. He'd left Hamza and Citlali at their more regular campsite, however, and taken only Fovea with him as a guide; Citlali was protection enough for their supplies, and Hamza could be devastating when he felt threatened, so Swentzle felt little worry in leaving them alone. Fovea seemed to like the one-on-one time; she kept hitting the back of his legs with her tail, and rubbing his hand with her head, where it rested in order for her to steer him clear of large obstacles like rivers or fallen trees. The terrain had been more difficult to traverse for the past hour or so; Fovea guided him through tight spaces, sometimes so narrow that he had to move behind her and hold her tail to be lead through. It was past sundown, and he was completely blind now, but he still went on, curious as to where Fovea was leading him. The materials that brushed against his fur were unfamiliar; hard and cold, unlike anything he'd ever felt before. He murmured quietly under his breath the words to banish evil spirits, staying as close as he could to his feline companion as they went deeper and deeper into the abandoned city. Sometimes he tripped unexpectedly over something lying in the road, and when that happened Fovea was there immediately to catch him, though nearly always he ended up on his knees with his arms and torso over her back, the cougar not quite having been fast enough. After the seventh or eighth time, he learned to drag his feet a bit over the ground, and kicked things out of the way before they became a problem. He soon got the feeling that Fovea was taking him somewhere in particular, but where he couldn't quite discern; it was only the comfort of the small pack hanging from his shoulder, in which was his Awk and some medicinal herbs, that convinced him to keep going rather than demand they stop. He wished Fovea knew High Speech, as so many of her kind did, but when they were younger--and he did not require so much of her--they'd preferred to operate on an instinctive basis, relying on the way the other was acting to discern what they were thinking. He hadn't thought teaching her how to speak would be important, and she'd grown so vain and touchy after he'd lost his sight that suggesting it might make her leave him; he didn't want her to think she wasn't good enough anymore. It was he who was useless. Finally, after what seemed an eternity--though was really only another half an hour--Fovea stopped, and moved away from him quite suddenly, leaving him stumbling as he reached after her. "Quo vadis, Fovea?" His voice had an edge of panic in it, hoping she might return to him when she realized he was distressed, but this was not the case; she simply left him there, shaking slightly from the cold--he'd forgone his wrap when they'd started out, leaving his chest and arms bare, thinking it might be slightly warmer tonight--and from the fear. Table by Aly, code by the Mentors! <style>.swentzle-fieldsofgold { background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/kmHKk.png); background-repeat:no-repeat; background-position:bottom center; background-color:#93d7fa; width:500px; margin:0px auto; text-align: left; padding:10px 0px 300px 0px; color:#555555; font-family:georgia, serif; font-size:12px; line-height:18px; border:1px solid #FFFFFF; outline:1px solid #000000;} .swentzle-fieldsofgold b {color:#FFFFFF; } .swentzle-fieldsofgold p { text-indent:40px; padding:5px 15px; margin:0px; } .swentzle-fieldsofgold p.ooc { font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size:11px; } .swentzle-fieldsofgold .name { font-size:45px; font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-transform:uppercase; text-align:right; margin:0px 45px 15px 0px; color:#FFFFFF; text-shadow:#000000 2px 2px 1px; } p.template-credit {text-indent:0px; text-align:center; font-size:10px; font-style:italic; width:425px; text-align:center; margin:0px auto;} .swentzle-fieldsofgold .wordcount {color:#555555; letter-spacing:0px; font-size:11px; font-weight:bold; border-top:1px dotted #8c8c8c; text-align:right; padding:0px 5px; text-transform:uppercase; margin:0px 15px 15px 15px;} p.template-credit {text-indent:0px; text-align:center; font-size:10px; font-style:italic; width:425px; text-align:center; margin:0px auto;} </style> [/html] - Caspa Al-Fateh - 12-07-2011 [html] 5+ Hope this is ok!
table image credit to Burksy@flickr [/html]
- Swentzle Byström - 12-07-2011 [html] It's awesome! I hope you don't mind, I assumed a couple things... Word Count → 534 Fovea walked a few yards further, passing the white canine in the cloak, and then circled around a headstone to turn and watch them, her head lifted haughtily as though waiting for Swentzle to catch up. Swentzle couldn't see it, but he was fairly certain of her actions; it had been a pose she assumed often before the accident. He began carefully dragging his feet forward, shuffling more than walking--and barely moving, at that--and feeling more and more ashamed the longer it took him to find her, but before he could dwell too much on it, he felt a hand brush close to his fur. Not quite touching, but seemingly checking for injuries. He froze, surprised that he'd been unaware of the other canine in the area, and turned his head slightly, attempting to locate her with if swiveling of his ears was any indication. He supposed his panic was the reason he'd been so negligent, but he vowed to be more careful from then on, and worked his throat into answering her question. "Fovea is a companion of mine. It may be hard to believe, but she is my guide for this journey." He explained quietly, feeling disoriented and off-balance, as it was clear she could see him, even when he couldn't see her. This was why he didn't usually come out at night; he was completely blind then, and it grew harder and harder to see even during the day as time went on. After a moment's hesitation, he returned his arms to his body, folding them over his chest both to ward off cold and to make him feel more comfortable. It did nothing to unlock his knees, however, and over-all his stance was very stiff and uncomfortable. He turned his head slightly toward where he thought Fovea to be, and though he could not see her, he knew she was there when he heard the quiet sounds of her bathing herself. Fovea had, in fact, perched herself on the base of a headstone that had once held a large statue, and was now bathing her ears and tail, seemingly without a care in the world. She was quite worried about Swentzle, though; they'd been a team for so long she couldn't bear to see him stumble about so. She'd come across this place on one of her hunts, and seen the large symbol--the cross--that hung around some Luperci's necks and that seemed to be sacred. The earth here struck her as hallowed ground, as the Burial Mounds once had, and she'd brought Swentzle here in the hopes that the combination of sacred things would bring him back to her--whether it healed him, or blinded him completely. Leaping off her bathing stone, she stalked over to the two canines, yowling to get their attention when she was a few yards away and then turning her back and bounding into the building. Swentzle listened to her footsteps fade and felt something settle in his chest, though what he couldn't quite say. "Please, if you would...where are we?" He asked the stranger, feeling distinctly uncomfortable and at a disadvantage almost as soon as he'd spoken. Table by Aly, code by the Mentors! <style>.swentzle-fieldsofgold { background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/kmHKk.png); background-repeat:no-repeat; background-position:bottom center; background-color:#93d7fa; width:500px; margin:0px auto; text-align: left; padding:10px 0px 300px 0px; color:#555555; font-family:georgia, serif; font-size:12px; line-height:18px; border:1px solid #FFFFFF; outline:1px solid #000000;} .swentzle-fieldsofgold b {color:#FFFFFF; } .swentzle-fieldsofgold p { text-indent:40px; padding:5px 15px; margin:0px; } .swentzle-fieldsofgold p.ooc { font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size:11px; } .swentzle-fieldsofgold .name { font-size:45px; font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-transform:uppercase; text-align:right; margin:0px 45px 15px 0px; color:#FFFFFF; text-shadow:#000000 2px 2px 1px; } p.template-credit {text-indent:0px; text-align:center; font-size:10px; font-style:italic; width:425px; text-align:center; margin:0px auto;} .swentzle-fieldsofgold .wordcount {color:#555555; letter-spacing:0px; font-size:11px; font-weight:bold; border-top:1px dotted #8c8c8c; text-align:right; padding:0px 5px; text-transform:uppercase; margin:0px 15px 15px 15px;} p.template-credit {text-indent:0px; text-align:center; font-size:10px; font-style:italic; width:425px; text-align:center; margin:0px auto;} </style> [/html] - Caspa Al-Fateh - 12-08-2011 [html]
table image credit to Burksy@flickr [/html]
- Swentzle Byström - 12-08-2011 [html] occ here Word Count → 282 Swentzle tilted his head slightly, a small frown pulling at his maw. A city? He'd heard of such things, of course--the remnants of the humans that had once ruled the earth. But he'd never felt the desire to investigate them, even if there had been one not far from where he was. What was Fovea doing, bringing him here? He shifted, his eyes flicking back and forth for a moment before he settled them once more into a blank gaze into the darkness. He wished he could speak to his companion... "Thank you for informing me." He said, and then hesitated. A stone hall...Fovea had never been fascinated with buildings before, but he couldn't help but wonder what it was that had drawn her to this one. "I would not be comfortable within an unstable building...but Fovea has shown no interest in ruins before. I cannot help but wonder what it is that she's trying to show me." He reached up to rub a hand along the back of his neck, lowering his head but keeping his eyes wide and open. He didn't want to miss even a flicker of something he might see. "How long have you had difficulty with vision?" He blinked, and raised his head again, his ears lowering. "Ah. That is...somewhat painful to answer." He said, and shook his head. "I was caught in a fire, attempting to save my daughter, and the smoke never quite left my eyes." He sighed, lowering his hands to fold them over his chest again. "I was partially blinded, but it is the worst at night. I cannot see my hand in front of my face." He added. Table by Aly, code by the Mentors! <style>.swentzle-fieldsofgold { background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/kmHKk.png); background-repeat:no-repeat; background-position:bottom center; background-color:#93d7fa; width:500px; margin:0px auto; text-align: left; padding:10px 0px 300px 0px; color:#555555; font-family:georgia, serif; font-size:12px; line-height:18px; border:1px solid #FFFFFF; outline:1px solid #000000;} .swentzle-fieldsofgold b {color:#FFFFFF; } .swentzle-fieldsofgold p { text-indent:40px; padding:5px 15px; margin:0px; } .swentzle-fieldsofgold p.ooc { font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size:11px; } .swentzle-fieldsofgold .name { font-size:45px; font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-transform:uppercase; text-align:right; margin:0px 45px 15px 0px; color:#FFFFFF; text-shadow:#000000 2px 2px 1px; } p.template-credit {text-indent:0px; text-align:center; font-size:10px; font-style:italic; width:425px; text-align:center; margin:0px auto;} .swentzle-fieldsofgold .wordcount {color:#555555; letter-spacing:0px; font-size:11px; font-weight:bold; border-top:1px dotted #8c8c8c; text-align:right; padding:0px 5px; text-transform:uppercase; margin:0px 15px 15px 15px;} p.template-credit {text-indent:0px; text-align:center; font-size:10px; font-style:italic; width:425px; text-align:center; margin:0px auto;} </style> [/html] - Caspa Al-Fateh - 12-08-2011 [html]
table image credit to Burksy@flickr [/html]
- Swentzle Byström - 12-08-2011 [html] occ here Word Count → 385 Swentzle was grateful for the information she gave him, and frowned slightly at the description of the colored glass in the windows. Antiman had once told him of such a place; he'd called it a church. It had been the home of the human's spiritual leaders, according to the old texts they'd found together...why on earth would Fovea bring him here? "I have some idea of where we are," He said after a moment, reaching up to rub his throat thoughtfully, "But still cannot discern my companions' reasons for this journey." Fovea yowled impatiently from her rock, and then leaped up and disappeared around the building, presumably finding a way inside, as a moment later her purring echoed eerily from within. His hand traveled up to his hair, and he ran his hand through it uneasily before he sighed. "I'm afraid I will not be able to get inside, with or without help. And I would not ask such a thing of you, if it truly looks unsafe. Whatever Fovea wishes to share will have to be brought out here." And the last he said in a much louder voice, to be heard within the building. The gentle question caught him off guard, but he shook his head all the same, a frown pulling at his maw and his brows pushing together uncomfortably. "No, not long...three months, give or take a few weeks. After the incident I could not bear the shame I brought my family and my tribe, so I left." He paused, and ran his fingers through his hair again, sighing heavily. "I begin to regret my decision...but what is done is done. Shevon did not deserve a father who could not protect her, anyway." Kiara had pointed out the benefits of being only partially blinded, and he had to admit, now, that he'd been narrow-minded in his grief; he could have stayed where he was and learned to be of more use than a burden; but instead he'd fled from the shame, and from the pain he'd not been able to save Shevon from. If Anzhela could see him now, he had no doubt she'd slap some sense into him; but he had only himself to rely on, now. Himself...and Fovea, whom still had yet to return. Table by Aly, code by the Mentors! <style>.swentzle-fieldsofgold { background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/kmHKk.png); background-repeat:no-repeat; background-position:bottom center; background-color:#93d7fa; width:500px; margin:0px auto; text-align: left; padding:10px 0px 300px 0px; color:#555555; font-family:georgia, serif; font-size:12px; line-height:18px; border:1px solid #FFFFFF; outline:1px solid #000000;} .swentzle-fieldsofgold b {color:#FFFFFF; } .swentzle-fieldsofgold p { text-indent:40px; padding:5px 15px; margin:0px; } .swentzle-fieldsofgold p.ooc { font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size:11px; } .swentzle-fieldsofgold .name { font-size:45px; font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-transform:uppercase; text-align:right; margin:0px 45px 15px 0px; color:#FFFFFF; text-shadow:#000000 2px 2px 1px; } p.template-credit {text-indent:0px; text-align:center; font-size:10px; font-style:italic; width:425px; text-align:center; margin:0px auto;} .swentzle-fieldsofgold .wordcount {color:#555555; letter-spacing:0px; font-size:11px; font-weight:bold; border-top:1px dotted #8c8c8c; text-align:right; padding:0px 5px; text-transform:uppercase; margin:0px 15px 15px 15px;} p.template-credit {text-indent:0px; text-align:center; font-size:10px; font-style:italic; width:425px; text-align:center; margin:0px auto;} </style> [/html] - Caspa Al-Fateh - 12-09-2011 [html]
table image credit to Burksy@flickr [/html]
- Swentzle Byström - 12-09-2011 [html] ooc here Word Count → 252 Swentzle nodded at the twist of wisdom, but his face still betrayed his melancholy thoughts. There were so many if onlys whirling around in his skull that it was rather impossible for him to put on a happy face, though he was able to put it out of his mind when the stranger offered to go in and see what Fovea was up to. He frowned worriedly, cocking his head and listening intently for reasons unknown to him at that moment. "If you are certain...but please, do be careful." He said, and hugged himself tightly as she began to walk away. He had not noticed, before, the scent of other canines, but now he did; and there was not only the scent of the female he'd spoken with, but another, more faded scent, laid into the ground and wafting on the air around him. He hesitated a moment, wondering if the person had been and gone already, but he didn't feel comfortable enough to bank on it, and began walking forward, his hands out and his feet dragging across the ground to prevent him from falling. Fovea wasn't there to help him, but he didn't mind; he was only growing more concerned, as the farther up the path he got, the heavier the scent of blood hanging in the air became. Swentzle didn't know if it came from his companion, or from the one with the faded scent, but he couldn't help but be concerned, either way. "Miss...? Are you alright?" Table by Aly, code by the Mentors! <style>.swentzle-fieldsofgold { background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/kmHKk.png); background-repeat:no-repeat; background-position:bottom center; background-color:#93d7fa; width:500px; margin:0px auto; text-align: left; padding:10px 0px 300px 0px; color:#555555; font-family:georgia, serif; font-size:12px; line-height:18px; border:1px solid #FFFFFF; outline:1px solid #000000;} .swentzle-fieldsofgold b {color:#FFFFFF; } .swentzle-fieldsofgold p { text-indent:40px; padding:5px 15px; margin:0px; } .swentzle-fieldsofgold p.ooc { font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size:11px; } .swentzle-fieldsofgold .name { font-size:45px; font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-transform:uppercase; text-align:right; margin:0px 45px 15px 0px; color:#FFFFFF; text-shadow:#000000 2px 2px 1px; } p.template-credit {text-indent:0px; text-align:center; font-size:10px; font-style:italic; width:425px; text-align:center; margin:0px auto;} .swentzle-fieldsofgold .wordcount {color:#555555; letter-spacing:0px; font-size:11px; font-weight:bold; border-top:1px dotted #8c8c8c; text-align:right; padding:0px 5px; text-transform:uppercase; margin:0px 15px 15px 15px;} p.template-credit {text-indent:0px; text-align:center; font-size:10px; font-style:italic; width:425px; text-align:center; margin:0px auto;} </style> [/html] - Caspa Al-Fateh - 12-10-2011 [html] Sorry for passing out on you D: 5+
There was a second of dim and gloomy silence, the wolf's eyes darting from side to side, then Fovea seemed to notice Caspa. She turned her head, then her body, winding a sinuous cat-like greeting and the ivory hound relaxed: yes, of course, this was Swentzle's companion, not a wild creature. The other wolf seemed relieved too, but he seemed to think his reprieve was only because the cougar had turned its attention to a weaker target. He shouted "Oh, thank you, thank you," to no one in particular, and then dashed for the exit, both cat and dog head turning to watch him. He gave a yell as he reached the doorway, and screeched to a halt, perhaps noticing Swentzle and feeling himself trapped. Or maybe he hadn't seen the other male at all, for his head seemed upwards turned and Caspa realised he'd run into a cloud of dust emanating from the upper lintel of the large stone door. The next second, the wall above the door disintegrated and fell, taking the little belfry with it. Caspa noticed with resigned horror that the world resumed its slow-motion sharpness as it did whenever danger hit: noticed the breaking blocks of stone and the ancient plaster exploding into dust, noticed the stranger-wolf, disappearing beneath it all, noticed the rays of dying December sun coming through the hole where the masonry had been, lighting this interior brightly in a way it probably had never been before. She had no idea if the building was done collapsing but she sprinted for the pile of rubble anyway, clutching a hand to her mouth to try to filter the dust which she could hardly even see through. table image credit to Burksy@flickr [/html]
- Swentzle Byström - 12-10-2011 [html] No worries! Word Count → 403 Swentzle's sense of foreboding grew the farther up the hill he went, and his eyes strained to see in the dark. There were a few last, dying rays of sunlight, but little else; and that wasn't enough to help him see clearly. He went on blindly, and when he reached the opening, halted, leaning forward and squinting to see in the darkness. He heard the shouted professions of gratitude, and running footsteps, coming toward him; he held a hand out, more to steady himself than to stop anyone, but it seemed that was enough, as the footsteps halted and a shout was heard. Swentzle heard the stones shifting together above him and did the only sensible thing there was to do, selfish though it seemed; he threw himself back, covering his head with his hands as the ceiling came down. As soon as the dust seemed to have settled, he leaped to his feet once more, and began pulling smaller rocks off the top of the pile. He heard the female coming up on the other side, and gritted his teeth, trying to remember everything he'd learned about the structural foundations of things. "If you pull things from the bottom to get to him faster, a larger rock may crush him to death." He said, and his voice was sharp and somewhat terse, his hands groping blindly for stones small enough for him to haul off by himself. He found the edge of a larger one, and felt slowly around it, finding it to be almost half his size. He'd need to get rid of that; perhaps there was a way to roll it harmlessly down the side of the pile, rather than inward and onto the stranger? He climbed up onto the pile, stepping as lightly as he could and where he was fairly certain there was no possibility of him causing any harsh consequences, and tried to feel the smoothest side. But it appeared the rock rested on top of the dog himself, and in a sort of groove, at that; it would have to be lifted off of him and taken away. He continued his investigation with his hands, pulling smaller stones whenever it seemed they could afford to go, and finally stood, his mouth set in a determined line and his eyes hard. "How strong are you? We need to move this rock, here, before I can treat him." Table by Aly, code by the Mentors! <style>.swentzle-fieldsofgold { background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/kmHKk.png); background-repeat:no-repeat; background-position:bottom center; background-color:#93d7fa; width:500px; margin:0px auto; text-align: left; padding:10px 0px 300px 0px; color:#555555; font-family:georgia, serif; font-size:12px; line-height:18px; border:1px solid #FFFFFF; outline:1px solid #000000;} .swentzle-fieldsofgold b {color:#FFFFFF; } .swentzle-fieldsofgold p { text-indent:40px; padding:5px 15px; margin:0px; } .swentzle-fieldsofgold p.ooc { font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size:11px; } .swentzle-fieldsofgold .name { font-size:45px; font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-transform:uppercase; text-align:right; margin:0px 45px 15px 0px; color:#FFFFFF; text-shadow:#000000 2px 2px 1px; } p.template-credit {text-indent:0px; text-align:center; font-size:10px; font-style:italic; width:425px; text-align:center; margin:0px auto;} .swentzle-fieldsofgold .wordcount {color:#555555; letter-spacing:0px; font-size:11px; font-weight:bold; border-top:1px dotted #8c8c8c; text-align:right; padding:0px 5px; text-transform:uppercase; margin:0px 15px 15px 15px;} p.template-credit {text-indent:0px; text-align:center; font-size:10px; font-style:italic; width:425px; text-align:center; margin:0px auto;} </style> [/html] - Caspa Al-Fateh - 12-11-2011 [html]
table image credit to Burksy@flickr [/html]
- Swentzle Byström - 12-11-2011 [html] occ here Word Count → 288 Caspa spoke, and Swentzle's face only hardened at the words. Perhaps, had he been able to see clearly, he might have said the same; but his hands were his eyes, and he could feel that slight gap between the stone that needed to be moved and the ones beneath it. Enough to survive beneath, he thought, and as Caspa moved forward to help him despite her protests, they managed to heave the rock up and off the injured dog. He let it go mid-fling, hoping that Caspa might do the same, and then turned his attention back toward the now-exposed chest of the white mutt. He coughed slightly at the dust that rose up into his nostrils, covering his maw for a moment before he knelt down, resting one hand on the mutt's sternum and holding the other before his mouth and nose. After a long moment, he felt the slightest gust of air against his palm, and though there was no rise and fall beneath his other hand, he refused to believe that breath had been a fluke, rising and stepping back with a heavy sigh of his own. "I felt him take a breath. He may yet have a chance...do you see anything else preventing us from taking him to safety?" he asked, his head turning blindly toward where he thought his companion was. His hands dug in his satchel, and after a moment he came up with a pinch of a smelly herb that would hopefully ease whatever pain he caused as he attempted to bandage the male. He didn't move to force it into the strangers' mouth, though, until he was certain there was nothing else that needed to be done. Table by Aly, code by the Mentors! <style>.swentzle-fieldsofgold { background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/kmHKk.png); background-repeat:no-repeat; background-position:bottom center; background-color:#93d7fa; width:500px; margin:0px auto; text-align: left; padding:10px 0px 300px 0px; color:#555555; font-family:georgia, serif; font-size:12px; line-height:18px; border:1px solid #FFFFFF; outline:1px solid #000000;} .swentzle-fieldsofgold b {color:#FFFFFF; } .swentzle-fieldsofgold p { text-indent:40px; padding:5px 15px; margin:0px; } .swentzle-fieldsofgold p.ooc { font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size:11px; } .swentzle-fieldsofgold .name { font-size:45px; font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-transform:uppercase; text-align:right; margin:0px 45px 15px 0px; color:#FFFFFF; text-shadow:#000000 2px 2px 1px; } p.template-credit {text-indent:0px; text-align:center; font-size:10px; font-style:italic; width:425px; text-align:center; margin:0px auto;} .swentzle-fieldsofgold .wordcount {color:#555555; letter-spacing:0px; font-size:11px; font-weight:bold; border-top:1px dotted #8c8c8c; text-align:right; padding:0px 5px; text-transform:uppercase; margin:0px 15px 15px 15px;} p.template-credit {text-indent:0px; text-align:center; font-size:10px; font-style:italic; width:425px; text-align:center; margin:0px auto;} </style> [/html] - Caspa Al-Fateh - 12-11-2011 [html]
table image credit to Burksy@flickr [/html]
- Swentzle Byström - 12-11-2011 [html] occ here Word Count → 526 There was a small fear in his heart that he would not be able to heal the male, but it was quickly banished to the back of his mind as Caspa directed him to take an arm. He did so, having to grope for a moment for the thickly furred thing before slinging it over his shoulder. It was then he noticed the scent of blood coming from the male, and he hefted the boy up, lifting his nose to see if he could discern where the scent was coming from. He managed to wrap an arm around the man's waist, just below his ribs so that he didn't injure them further, and pulled him up so that they stood, with the white dog leaning heavily on Swentzle. It was clear to the blind man that he was unconscious, so he began moving him. It was when one of the much larger male's legs brushed against his that Swentzle realized where the blood was coming from; he could feel the bone protruding, and knew he'd have to set it and then bandage it tightly so that it would heal properly. He certainly wasn't looking forward to that. "I think I can carry him on my own." Swentzle said, his eyes squinting slightly to see the difference in light. The sun had set by then, and he had only starlight to guide him; but it was enough to tell him which direction was out. "If you are not too uncomfortable in the building for a bit longer, could you see if there's anything we can use as bandages? His leg will need to be set." His voice didn't shake, though it very badly wanted to; setting bones was perhaps his least favorite part of healing. But when it had to be done, it had to be done; and it was not he who would feel the pain. He began moving carefully down the pile of rubble, wincing every time he banged the dog's leg against a rock. He was so much larger than the rather small Swentzle that it simply couldn't be helped, and it took quite a bit for Swentzle to get him outside and to what he deemed a safe distance from the collapsing building. Then he laid the man out, and pulled out the herbs again, grinding them between his hands before forcing open the male's jaws and tucking them into his cheeks. Irinei was conscious enough to swallow the herbs on his own, for which Swentzle was grateful; he had no water on his person, and he wasn't very good at force-feeding medicine, anyway. Fovea, for her part, stayed in the building to make sure Caspa got out alright, hovering along the outer edges of her personal space and kicking herself as much as a cat like Fovea did. This was her fault; she'd been curious about the strange male, and had scared him into shouting in a place that should have been condemned a long time ago. Her tail flicked irritably the whole time she followed the white female, and she could only feel sorrow that her plan hadn't gone accordingly. Table by Aly, code by the Mentors! <style>.swentzle-fieldsofgold { background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/kmHKk.png); background-repeat:no-repeat; background-position:bottom center; background-color:#93d7fa; width:500px; margin:0px auto; text-align: left; padding:10px 0px 300px 0px; color:#555555; font-family:georgia, serif; font-size:12px; line-height:18px; border:1px solid #FFFFFF; outline:1px solid #000000;} .swentzle-fieldsofgold b {color:#FFFFFF; } .swentzle-fieldsofgold p { text-indent:40px; padding:5px 15px; margin:0px; } .swentzle-fieldsofgold p.ooc { font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size:11px; } .swentzle-fieldsofgold .name { font-size:45px; font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-transform:uppercase; text-align:right; margin:0px 45px 15px 0px; color:#FFFFFF; text-shadow:#000000 2px 2px 1px; } p.template-credit {text-indent:0px; text-align:center; font-size:10px; font-style:italic; width:425px; text-align:center; margin:0px auto;} .swentzle-fieldsofgold .wordcount {color:#555555; letter-spacing:0px; font-size:11px; font-weight:bold; border-top:1px dotted #8c8c8c; text-align:right; padding:0px 5px; text-transform:uppercase; margin:0px 15px 15px 15px;} p.template-credit {text-indent:0px; text-align:center; font-size:10px; font-style:italic; width:425px; text-align:center; margin:0px auto;} </style> [/html] - Caspa Al-Fateh - 12-12-2011 [html]
table image credit to Burksy@flickr [/html]
- Swentzle Byström - 12-12-2011 [html] This post...is not my best. :x lolol sorry. |D Word Count → 419 Caspa soon returned with strips of cloth, and Swentzle nodded, though he couldn't see them; anything at this point would work just fine. He lay the male out as well as he could, and then moved down to the mangled leg, putting his hands on either side of the break. He felt his stomach squirm and his mouth water as though he were about to throw up, but he shook the feelings away irritably and narrowed his blind eyes as he felt the wound as best he could. When he knew exactly what he had to do--and had elicited enough pained noises from the male to make his heart clench and his stomach begin doing cartwheels--he turned his head toward Caspa again. "Hold him down for a moment, if you would. This is going to be painful." And his voice held a tinge of regret for that, though it didn't stop him from flexing his hands and, moments later, pulling and pushing the bone back into place. It was indeed very painful, if the scream that came from the white dog's lips was any indication, but Swentzle could afford to do little more than shudder as he reached blindly for the bandages and began winding them tightly around the freshly bleeding wound. Fovea brought forward two sticks, about as long as the lower half of the male's leg, and with another strip of cloth he secured them to the sides of the male's leg, forming a make-shift splint that would, with any luck, keep it from healing wrong. When that was done--taking all of about ten minutes in all--he sat back, holding his bloody hands out uneasily as though not quite sure what to do with them now. Finally he snapped out of it enough to wipe the blood off on his loincloth and move to the injured man's side once more, his mouth set in a tight line as he felt for broken ribs. Some of the bones there moved in frightening ways, but there was nothing he could do about them; he merely reached for the last bits of cloth, and slid his arms around the male's back, winding them about his ribcage just as tightly as he'd wrapped the leg. He finished the process with a few more pain-killing herbs tucked into the white male's cheeks, but he was out cold by then--the pain having knocked him unconscious--and Swentzle sighed, hoping he hadn't done more harm than good. Table by Aly, code by the Mentors! <style>.swentzle-fieldsofgold { background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/kmHKk.png); background-repeat:no-repeat; background-position:bottom center; background-color:#93d7fa; width:500px; margin:0px auto; text-align: left; padding:10px 0px 300px 0px; color:#555555; font-family:georgia, serif; font-size:12px; line-height:18px; border:1px solid #FFFFFF; outline:1px solid #000000;} .swentzle-fieldsofgold b {color:#FFFFFF; } .swentzle-fieldsofgold p { text-indent:40px; padding:5px 15px; margin:0px; } .swentzle-fieldsofgold p.ooc { font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size:11px; } .swentzle-fieldsofgold .name { font-size:45px; font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-transform:uppercase; text-align:right; margin:0px 45px 15px 0px; color:#FFFFFF; text-shadow:#000000 2px 2px 1px; } p.template-credit {text-indent:0px; text-align:center; font-size:10px; font-style:italic; width:425px; text-align:center; margin:0px auto;} .swentzle-fieldsofgold .wordcount {color:#555555; letter-spacing:0px; font-size:11px; font-weight:bold; border-top:1px dotted #8c8c8c; text-align:right; padding:0px 5px; text-transform:uppercase; margin:0px 15px 15px 15px;} p.template-credit {text-indent:0px; text-align:center; font-size:10px; font-style:italic; width:425px; text-align:center; margin:0px auto;} </style> [/html] - Caspa Al-Fateh - 12-12-2011 3+ [html] Tis good! Mine's a little peculiar as ever, but I'm sure you're used to that.
table image credit to Burksy@flickr [/html]
- Swentzle Byström - 12-12-2011 [html] I love you're posts hehe. <3 Word Count → 247 Swentzle's heart ached at the pain he caused, though he was relieved when Caspa succeeded in holding the large male relatively still. He brushed a hand through the fur on his chest, touching for a moment the scars from his first hunt, and then blew out his breath. He offered a weary smile to Caspa as she spoke, his hands trembling slightly from exertion and nerves--it had been so long since he'd done any serious healing; it was terrifying, and exhilarating, to know he still had it in him--but he nodded, not letting out the desperate hope that he would live, and that he would not gain an infection or run a fever from this moment on. She offered to give the young man shelter, and Swentzle hesitated a moment, then dropped his gaze to his hands. "I have no pack of my own with which to shelter him, but I do have the supplies and skills to keep him alive." Rubbing his blood-stained hands together uneasily, he continued quietly, "And there is a pack in the mountains that I would join, had this not occurred. If you have no objections, I would take him there." He paused, and then added, "But your pack is no doubt closer, and if you have a healer of your own...?" He would see to it that this man got the best care that could be provided, no matter how responsible for him the blind wolf-dog felt. Table by Aly, code by the Mentors! <style>.swentzle-fieldsofgold { background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/kmHKk.png); background-repeat:no-repeat; background-position:bottom center; background-color:#93d7fa; width:500px; margin:0px auto; text-align: left; padding:10px 0px 300px 0px; color:#555555; font-family:georgia, serif; font-size:12px; line-height:18px; border:1px solid #FFFFFF; outline:1px solid #000000;} .swentzle-fieldsofgold b {color:#FFFFFF; } .swentzle-fieldsofgold p { text-indent:40px; padding:5px 15px; margin:0px; } .swentzle-fieldsofgold p.ooc { font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size:11px; } .swentzle-fieldsofgold .name { font-size:45px; font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-transform:uppercase; text-align:right; margin:0px 45px 15px 0px; color:#FFFFFF; text-shadow:#000000 2px 2px 1px; } p.template-credit {text-indent:0px; text-align:center; font-size:10px; font-style:italic; width:425px; text-align:center; margin:0px auto;} .swentzle-fieldsofgold .wordcount {color:#555555; letter-spacing:0px; font-size:11px; font-weight:bold; border-top:1px dotted #8c8c8c; text-align:right; padding:0px 5px; text-transform:uppercase; margin:0px 15px 15px 15px;} p.template-credit {text-indent:0px; text-align:center; font-size:10px; font-style:italic; width:425px; text-align:center; margin:0px auto;} </style> [/html] - Caspa Al-Fateh - 12-12-2011 [html]
table image credit to Burksy@flickr [/html]
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