[closed] and I think of each life as a flower

[horkbajir]

Who: Toby and Steven
When: Early Aguril
Where: Out in the wider plains
What: Aftermath of a quest
Warnings: Mild gore, Cwyld

Lion has the eye for small things hiding or fleeing in the long grass, much more than Toby does. Long after she stops seeing the little creatures, the big pink cat finds things to pounce on. She keeps an eye on him, and plans to make her own sweep through the grass before she leaves, but things have gone quieter now and it's time to calm herself with some deep breaths and take stock.

Small bodies litter the ground. The stoats and their riders were all on a scale where they could be stepped on, where she used her feet more than her hands, and she's got red-tainted-with-black blood almost coating her toes on up to her knee blades. When they were even able to find her through Steven's illusions they could barely get through her scaly hide, inflicting tiny cuts and punctures and burned strips that would normally all heal to subtle distortions on her skin within a few hours and be entirely gone with her next molt. The arrows would be the only trouble, itching and needing to be pulled free, but there was the matter of the Cwyld.

Toby's been infected; she can see the darker mottling on her scales around those sites, feel the burning sensation, and knows it's minor, the Wilders will be able to take care of this. She's pretty sure Lion's in a similar state. Steven seems worse off.

"I think it's over," she says. "You were hit a couple of times, weren't you? Let me take a look."

Comments

[horkbajir]

Toby's been present for enough mercy runs to the outer city to have at least a general idea. She nods, as always just noticeably wary about the big animal. "Yes. Caught this early, it's easily treated. I wouldn't want him to slip away and escape treatment, of course, but I doubt there will be any lingering effects as it is."

Lion could use a mane-brushing, not that Toby knows what a mane is called, or a brush for that matter. The long pink fur got in the way of a few stray attacks.

"Steven," she says suddenly, deciding to just forge ahead bluntly, the way she knows how to do. "If these were my people, and I was not forced to quit the battlefield, I would try to handle and arrange their bodies in a dignified way. These aren't my people." She tips her horns to one side as if saying, clearly. "But I think it will be good to show them respect and acknowledge that I am accountable."

Not guilty, accountable. Toby's perturbed but not really upset about this, and more concerned for her bondling than perturbed. He seems very young just now, and she would like to try to bring him through this without too much lingering trauma. "It may bother you more. I won't think less of you if you decide to leave. Yet, if you wanted to say something to them, this could be a good time."

[starseedling]

Steven is a bit taken back by the suggestion, but not in a necessarily disagreeable way. If anything, the idea just puts him at ill ease. Thinking about bodies or how to arrange them is far beyond his expertise. Not to mention, other factors...

"I... I don't know if we should touch them, more than we have to... what if it makes the infection worse?" He's already not feeling great and the idea of getting more infected is ominous. He feels sensitive to it, somehow. "But..." He trails off, because it's really just a lot to deal with. "Maybe... we could cover them? In leaves, or grass?"

He looks down at his feet.

"If the Wilders don't have to look them over or anything..."

[horkbajir]

"Ah." Toby's face doesn't change, but that's a flicker of surprise and guilt. She's the Seer. She should be able to consider the future and the ramifications of her own and other peoples' actions better than this. "It's true. I didn't think of that."

She needs to remember not to treat Steven, or other people in this place, like she would her people, and generally she does. They have their own ways, and she doesn't have authority over them. Not that she should have total authority over hers, really, even if they have all accepted that she is a Seer.

"I want to help you, but I don't know how," she admits cautiously. "You haven't seen much death, I don't think?"

[starseedling]

"...No," he admits after a few moments of hesitation. Death isn't something unfamiliar to him - he's seen the aftermath of it. Yet, it's always been Gems. A shattering is different. His mom's 'death' was different.

"Not like this. Gems just go poof when you defeat them, and we can take the home and keep them safe... they don't look like this."

He looks in the direction of the dead animals again. How much worse would it be if these were unquestionably people?

[horkbajir]

She nods, though she has only a vague idea about what 'going poof' means. They may have had a conversation about Gems at some point, maybe disabused her vague notion that they're all inherently small in stature like Steven and Peridot.

"There are good deaths. Or - some deaths are better than others." Toby doesn't think of an old person surrounded by loving family as her image of dying well, unfortunately. "Even a good one hurts to be present for. It should hurt. Pain means a connection to the one who died."

Before coming here, she'd been noticing herself feeling less about it, and knowing that she'll need that distance. "These were not good deaths. I'm sorry that this has been your introduction to it."

[starseedling]

His mom probably had a good death, he thinks, unbidden. She got what she wanted. To create something new, and to leave her pain behind. He knows first hand how much that hurt everyone, regardless. He nods with tired but deeply sincere agreement.

He looks out at the field of fallen creatures, taking her words to heart.

"Sorry, little guys," he says, softly. He settles on that idea for a moment, and then looks back at Toby, his voice a bit more steady. "I'll be okay."

[horkbajir]

She nods.

There's no infection so high up on her body. She removed the enchantment that made it harder to accidentally cut living flesh for the purpose of this outing, but she only really needs it when surrounded by soft people in a place full of blind corners, like the city.

"All right, then. Hold still for a second."

Toby leans down, angles her head to one side, and touches the flat side of one of her bladelike horns to Steven's forehead, under his antennae. It's a gesture of approval and affection, as close to a kiss as she's willing to give.