A quick look

Ghita Marino · 04-28-2010, 03:03 PM

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Wc: 603

She'd heard the call as clear as day - far from slumber, the fae found herself more attuned to everything around her - be it the footfalls of her packmates or a piece of nearby prey. Especially as her eyes remained closed, her pitiful defense against the fresh bouts of pain. Only able to sit helplessly as her bones and skin knit themselves back together, the fae found herself plagued by feelings of uselessness and misery brought on by the multiple wounds covering her body.

Her first instinct upon hearing the call was panic. The last time a howl had been heard in the pack's lands, it had been one of desperation and fear, brought on by the young Mati to save Ghita's own niece. Even though the call sounded nothing like hers, being masculine of timbre, the panic still remained, leading the fae to jolt upright, instantly regretting the movement as her ribs shrieked in protest. Biting her lip to prevent a whimper from escaping her, the fae took a moment to collect herself, letting her lungs drink in air to steady her nerves.

Steadily, it had become obvious that the healer was the source of the howl, and something far from panic. The healer who'd cared for her soon after the fae had been dug out of the rubble was simply checking up on her - an action that had confusing emotions tied to it. Although far from happy about the fact that she had to be cared for, there weren't many other wolves that Ghita'd trust to do it. Although she'd met Dawali only a few days earlier, he'd been a friend to Savina for a long time now, as well as mentor to Cambria in terms of healing. With two Marinos good friends to the Aniwayan leader, that was more than enough to allow Ghita to trust him.

Air hissed out of her body as the fae rose, using her bandaged hands to push herself off of the couch. The needle-like pain from the scratches had long since been outmatched by her broken leg and ribs. Dragging herself to her one good hind paw, the Optimed fae steadied herself against the wall, balance not her forte without an extra leg to rely on. Bending her good knee to reach her walking stick, the fae collected herself once more, adjusting to movement after a long period of rest.

Her sarong had been used as a bandage around her ribs, keeping them in place to promote healing among the cracked and broken bones. But the most elaborate dressing on her, the one that made Ghita feel like an Egyptian mummy was the awkward splint around her leg , two long sticks bandaged together on either side of her leg. Using her walking stick, the fae managed to propel herself forward, alternating leg and stick until she'd reached the doorway to the manor. Leaning against the open doorframe, Ghita drank in the fresh air eagerly, appreciating the cool air swirling through her lungs after mere hours of being confined to the couch.

Although her body had been broken, her proud spirit was far from defeated. Letting the air out in a response, her notes danced on the wind, traveling towards Dawali as fast as they could. Of course, she'd rather go to find him herself, but the fae wasn't stupid. Headstrong? Yes. Rash? Yes. But stupid? Not quite. The point had been made very clear to her - if the dust-coloured fae ever wanted to run and hunt like she used to, movement would sacrifice itself for the time being.

"notes:"

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