table © Alaine
ooc: slight pp. i'll change it if neccessary.
No words passed between them now, and the silence was a tangible thing, strung tense as a bow-string knocked with arrow ready. The cyclops turned slowly, and his lime green eyes was full of chemical suspicion, habitual mistrust. Alaine could empathize with that, for her own acquaintance was a skittish thing, never relaxing, never totally submerged in the company of another. For a moment, they did nothing more than study each other, two colors of green meshing in comparable likeness of old wounds and old grievances. Then, surprisingly, the taller male shifted to remove his bandage.
His motion was the only permission she needed. The revealed limb made her suck in a breath of air, emerald eyes widening slightly. A familiar tingle shivered through her right arm; It too bore scars, deep enough that the damaged flesh had never re-knit, but not so hideous as to permanently hamper the movement of the appendage. This wound, however, was unlike any she'd witnessed. It was not so much a scar, but a railroad of scars; Twisted flesh turned hard and puckered, thin lines of silver tracing the angry red of exposed and damaged muscle. The arm itself appeared to have little to no muscle retention, and hung at his side, a dead thing. Her stomach turned slightly, but her composure remained clinical, always professional.
She knew, at once, there was nothing to be done that could heal the wound. It was too old, too severe. No medicine short of magic could repair the damage that had been done there. However, her hand rose slowly, ivory fingers outstretched, emerald gaze flitting nervously from the limb to Jefferson's face as though she were about to touch the bear itself. His gaze was stubbornly downcast, shadows drawn low over the male's face. Slowly, so slowly, she allowed her cold healer's fingers to touch the mangled flesh. There would be pain at any contact, and so she was careful, extra careful. And after the slight touch she withdrew, allowing her palms to fold into one another, two ivory doves.
His pain had to be unimaginable, constant, never relenting. Such tissue damage, without herbal aid to relieve the muscular stress, would have resulted in never-ending agony. Respect bloomed in her heart, directly aside the sympathetic confusion already there.
Speak think walk
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