Take Back the Crown

Watching the two converse between the two, she kept still and looked down to her chest, exhaling a bit painfully,"Just my chest is what Im worried about right now. I might have a nick or two on my feet but thats from the sands..." she breathed. 


Wringing her hands over a piece of cloth she exhaled,"I might need a stitch or two, I know that. If thats going to happen I want a whiskey..." and most likely she would need a few. The cut was down her sternum, starting at the midde of her collarbone and ending just below the ribcage. The more fleshy bits on the bottom would bleed harder but due to her...pompus physique she had a decent gash in her flesh.


( in short she has big tiddie and more meat that was cut HA ) 


@Danika @soundofmind
 
"You won't need any stitches. I'm very good, hasn't anyone told you?" Valeiah joked with her. She undid the bandaging that Bo had very carefully wrapped, trying not to hurt her.


Val looked at the gash carefully. "This should be easy... there might be a scar left, though." She said, and with that, placed her glowing hands on her chest, slowly but surely closing up the wound.


@Tater @soundofmind
 
"Of course, I'll go see if anyone else requires help." Garrett nodded to Oceana's suggestion before he left the caravan, looking around to see where to go next.


@OlKaJa77


Kacel'la hummed to herself as she carried the body, easily doing the job thanks to her draconic strength and Phaedra's help. Her power was one of the few physical things that never disappeared no matter how hard she tried to suppress it, but sometimes she was a little thankful for it.


The words she mumbled were from an old song the people of her clan had often sung at burials. It was almost a habit of hers to remember it when confronted with death.


"Grave digger, grave digger
send me on my way
release me to desert
within' this shallow grave

 


grave digger, grave digger
bring me to my knees
forget what
i have done
forgive me if you please
save me if you can
the time for me has come
let me be the one that got away



grave digger, grave digger
slowly fill my grave
whisper to your god
allow me to be saved



grave digger, grave digger
pray for my lost soul
release me from this earth
allow me to grow old
save me if you can
the time for me has come
let me be the one that got away



oh my god
can I be saved
and not forgot
I hold out own

its not too late
so I'll pray
I'll pray
its not too late


grave digger, grave digger
rest is weary bones
help me on my way

dont let me die alone


grave digger, grave digger
take what I have left
give it to the lost
up on my dying breath
save me if you can
the time for me has come
let me be the one that got away"



@Rydellius @TeeKay
 
Lilith wiped away her tears, and turned to face Foxrun and Lucasta. She nodded at Svetlana's instructions, and sighed. "Of course." She walks up to the princess and Foxrun. "Alright, so I may have trained under Svetlana, but healing magic is not my strong suit. But don't worry, the worst that could happen is that it doesn't fully heal, but we have bandages for that." She patted the Princess on the shoulder. "Foxrun, do you mind grabbing me some bandages and water? I probably won't be able to heal it all the way and if it doesn't heal, we'll need those to patch her up." She asked as she took off her cloak and wrapped it around Lucasta.


Lucasta held her wound, and held a grim face. "Ah, thank you." She mumbled to the both of them. "I was so distracted, and it moved so fast..." She closed her eyes. 


Lilith placed both of her hands on her side, and Lucasta winced. "This might hurt a little bit." Lilith warned. Lucasta nodded and the witch started the healing process.


@GalacticRam
 
Quickly, Foxrun rummaged for the few things he was told to fetch, returning with them in hand quick enough to catch the end of their conversation. "I also brought a couple of extra cloths. To clean the blood. Even if it closes, I'm sure you'd prefer to be rid of the...mess?" He hesitated, trying not to be so awkward about it yet failing horribly. He then just thrusted the items towards the two as they were needed. "You did good despite the injuries." He finally butted in "we were all caught with our guard down. And you saved your brother and myself even after you were wounded. Don't forget that part." He made an attempt to reassure her, even a glimpse of a genuine smile "which while I'm at it, thank you for that."


@Queen of Fantasy
 
   Hjalmar sighed and then paused. "I... I think you're right." He finally admitted, "I'm sorry." He shifted in his seat before continuing, "I'm accustomed to keeping bad company, having to watch my back so I don't get stabbed by 'friends.' I'm sure you of all people understand that. Too many instances where trust can get you killed- where the wiser choice is reserving your trust for yourself, and yourself alone." He licked his dry lips, "I have a hard time remembering that these folks aren't cutthroat scum from the gutters, like me... well, and maybe you." He looked up with a smile at that last part. Though he said that, Hjalmar could tell in his gut that Dorian was trustworthy. He wasn't very much like the criminals the boy was once forced to work with. Oh, he was sure the man had murdered countless people, stolen hundreds- if not, thousands of priceless treasures. But you could do all those things and still be honorable to a certain extent.


   "I just need to rest." He finally said, "But there's no rest for the weary or the wicked, eh? I think I'll be fine. We should help the others clean up this reeking stench of death that's begun to linger here." The boy got up slowly. When he got to his feet, he felt light headed, but well enough that he could stand on his own.



 


   Svetlana nodded in thanks toward the two that she had left behind. Yaroslav would be safe in their hands. Opening the door, she was greeted by a waft of foul smells- no doubt the carnage left in their wake. Though she grimaced on the outside, her external physique had not changed. She was not new to the stench of battle, this was a smell she had experienced countless times before.


   Walking towards the center of the camp, originally thinking that she would be needed to heal someone in Valeiah's stead, she found that the girl was in the midst of healing Aggie. Her eyes were bloodshot and puffy, her face pale and grim. Svetlana frowned deeply, she was trying to distract herself from the pain. She knew it would stave off her anguish even only for a little while, so she turned directions without a word, slightly relieved she wouldn't have to spend as much energy as she originally thought. She eventually found that Lucasta was also being tended to as well. Lilith was attempting to heal her, and though it was not her expertise, Svetlana knew it would be done well enough that Lucasta would be able to press on without the old witch's help.


   She grunted, I suppose I am not needed here after all, she thought in surprise. She headed towards her tent to see if Alo's body had been delivered to her yet.


   She brushed aside the entrance, and found the still-covered body resting on her cot. The blanket was drenched in his blood, and Svetlana knew she still had much to do. At least it will not require magic, she thought to herself thankfully.


   After gathering a bucket full of water, rags, a new pair of Alo's clothes, and an assortment of other things, Svetlana pulled a stool up to the cot. She carefully removed the blanket from his frame. There was no color in his skin, a sickening blue already tinted his lips as his body temperature dropped to match that of the emptiness of his body. His soul was gone, what lay before her was but a shell of what was once before. She made sure the opening to her tent was closed so she could work in peace, and she began removing his clothes so she could clean his body.


   She remembered doing this a long time ago when she was the elder of her tribe. They were small, small enough that they all could have been considered a large family. Everyone knew each other's names and faces, there were no strangers. So when one of their own died, Svetlana would take it upon herself to prepare their bodies. The witch wasn't sure what Valeiah would want, but her people were cremated- returning to the dust they began from, nourishing the earth for new life to grow. It was an honorable use for the empty vessel that was left behind after death's work was done.


   She cleaned every inch of his body of the dirt, grit, and blood he had been bathed in from the battle before. The witch avoided staring at the gaping hole in his chest where his heart should be. After he was cleaned, his hair brushed and pulled back neatly again, she put on the new clothes she had fetched before- the nicest pair she could find that would look becoming in the final moments he could be seen. She left the tent for a moment to search the grassy landscape for a small rock. Finding one by the stone formation, she returned and sat back down in her stool. Swirling her hand above the stone, she whispered an incantation and a set of runes appeared on it as it's surface smoothed out. She took Alo's arms and folded them across his chest. In one hand she placed the dagger he had wielded in battle, and in the other she placed the rune stone; a totem of guidance in the afterlife, that his journey to the other side be swift.


   The old woman washed her hands, and took time to wash her face of the sweat and blood it had accumulated over the past two hours. The sun peeked through a crack in her tent, warming her back, and she closed her eyes, taking a moment to rest.


   Without meaning to, tears began to spill out of her eyes, and she clenched her throat in an attempt to stifle sobs. She had been so focused on the work that needed to be done, now that she had some time to herself, she began to realize the true extent of the damage that was inflicted. Many thoughts raced through her head; she wasn't strong enough to protect her group, Yaroslav still might die if his wound wouldn't heal properly, she failed everyone... she failed...


   She ran her wrinkled hand through her grayed hair, My power diminishes with each passing moment, she thought to herself, I can't protect the company like this.


   And with that, more tears spilled down her cheeks. But this was what the woman needed; some time to herself, and a peaceful moment for her to release her burdened heart...
 
Watching the other woman tend to her wounds, she glanced over to Ashlar and gave a weak smile before turning her attention back to Valeiah,"Thanks much! I forget that healing magics is a thing, as I do not practice it much."


Leaning her head back, she did her best to relax as she felt the wound sew itself up within itself till a fine pink line was now lined on her chest. Looking down at it she lightly brushed the side of it,"Actually...Im glad it scarred up a little. When I look back at it Ill appreciate life much more." smiling towards the other woman she chuckled nad dipped her head,"Thank you so very much its much appreciated." leaning forward, she gave a friendly head boop to Valeiah. It was a common way to say thanks at the school she attented to all her life since their signa was a ram. 


@Danika
 
Oceana nodded to Garrett and then turned back to Yaroslav.


Dipping her nimble fingers into the poultice, it was cold to the touch, she scooped some up and transferred some to her other hand.


After warming it between her palms for a moment, the elf clucked her tongue in slight reproach and began to slick Yaro's bruises with the stuff.


She began to murmur to the unconscious man and herself.


"I get the feeling you get into trouble quite often. Your loving sheanmhair always looking out for you."


She gathered up more ointment and continued.


"Reminds a wee bit of my father and I."


"I was always picking fights with everyone in earshot. Probably because they were always teasing me; stealing my bow or pushing me in the river."


"Once, several of my hunting mates put out the forge fire. Father was terribly angry about that. Still he never spoke out of turn or hit anyone."


The elf shook her head at her previous foolishness.


"Unlike me. I've always been ill-tempered. My hunting master called me something once. Hmm what wa- ah! 'caochlaidiche'... it means um easy to shake up.  Vul-vi-vabhh.. volatile! Yes volatile."


The elf woman finished up and wiped her hands on a spare towel.


"Just proof that I have the blood of the wicked running in my veins.. my real father... he... and mom..." 


Oceana didn't notice the point that her babbling had turned into a confession but couldn't stop the words. 


"I definitely wasnae... planned..."


She mumbled, knotting the cloth around her fingers.


"And to think you and Hjalmar are... the closest people to me in a long time, and you were targeted."


A bitter furrow of inky brows hinted at the elf's self ire. She forced a deep breath and exhaled through her nose.


"Well anyway," she whispered "Thank you, Yaro. For..." she trailed off, unsure what to say especially since he was still in critical condition.


"F-for just being you, I suppose."


"Despite what I feel about humans, you're not so bad."


She touched his red hair, wrapping a long lock around a finger.


"Father had hair just like yours, cara. The color of autumn leaves in the sun..."


@Lo Alyssa
 
Dorian nodded. "I know all about trusting those falsely called friends. The first time I tried, it earned me a scar across my back. Brought some truth to the term of backstabbing." He joked and chuckled, though the thin scar besides his spine twinged painfully as if trying to remind him that it was still there. Since the mistake that put it there, Dorian had used the word friend as a synonym for someone ready to betray him if he did not do so first, and limited his trust to only those he called family, which then had been a grand total of one person: his younger brother.


The familiar sighed and watched with concern as Hjalmar wobbled uncertainly when he stood up. "Well, if you really want to go back out there, stick close to me. It would be unfortunate for you to survive the battle and then die because you passed out and cracked your skull on a stone."


@Lo Alyssa
 

Phaedra left Alo's body and Svetlana alone after delivering it alongside the two other women, Kacel'la and Nameen. The air settled around her as her slowly brought her boots to touch the earth, though the wind still played with her hair, tossing her short black hair as though sharp gales of wind were blowing through it. Her mind was clouded with darkened thoughts. She was no stranger to death, so why was this affecting her the way it was?


 


She turned her eyes up towards the two beside her.


"Let us help clean up camp. The faster we can get packed up, the better."


Before Phaedra walked away, she paused, hesitating to speak the next few words.


"This may seem.. out of line.. only because I don't speak much to either of you, though I would like to change that.." She took a breath. It seemed silly. They were all essentially strangers, right? Phaedra only ever knew surface details about these people. Even Bo, who she was closest to. "..But I care. About you both, Valeiah, Foxrun.. Even about Oceana, though we haven't spoken for many days."


The sylph shook her head, making more of a mess of her hair. This was silly.


"Let's keep doing our best."


 


Shortly after that was said, Phaedra didn't stop to let either of the women respond to her, slightly embarrassed by the show of emotion. Though the sylph enjoyed making acquaintances and learning about new people, she had never grown close to much of anyone in her life. She would flit from person to person, enjoying idle conversation and sharing secrets alike, delighting in knowing things that others didn't for the fun of it. Every secret was a collector's item for Phaedra, stashed away in her mind like a prize. This was different. She found her heart reaching out to each of these people, too intimidated to approach most of them out of the fear that she wouldn't be likable. What a strange reversal for Phaedra.


She opted to distract herself - breaking down the tents that were no longer in use and carefully organizing her teammates' belongings in their packs, should they have been strewn about in the chaos. Once she neared Svetlana's tent, her ears pricked at the sounds of the muted and muffled sobs escaping the older woman's lips. Phaedra moved away, deciding to continue her work elsewhere. Even Svetlana - their pillar of strength that bound them together and that the princess herself even looked up to - was affected by the loss.


 

 
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  Kacel'la almost startled when Phaedra spoke up, glad for the fact that she did not teleport away as she had a habit to do when surprised.


The elf was ready to respond to Phaedra's words with some encouragement of her own, yet had to stop herself as she saw the Sylph walk away. So she only smiled softly and walked off to work with cleaning up the camp.


@TeeKay
 
After helping to deliver Alo's body to Svetlana's tent, Nameen idled in silence with Phaedra and Kacel'la.  She was surprised when Phaedra, after the moment's quiet, suddenly spoke out.  Nameen listened to the sylph's words, barely having any time to process them before her companion retreated.  Shortly after, Kacel'la strode off as well, leaving Nameen standing alone in thought. 


She too set off to begin packing the up the camp, at least what had been spared by the battle, but Nameen was somewhat distracted.  With everything that had just taken place, and with Phaedra's words to them.  It was funny she felt, that this was the longest that she had spent with a rather large group in years.  With her mind in other places, Nameen continued her work. 


@/anyone
 
   Hjalmar laughed quietly at the comment, but said no more. He leaned against the frame of the opened door for support as he stepped out into the grass, most of which was stained with blood- both the red color of humans and the dark black color of the daemons. His nose wrinkled at the smell. He looked around and saw that most everybody was still busy with their tasks, and it seemed no one had taken the time to move the bodies so they could burn them- all but Alo's of course. He was gone, and Hjalmar could only assume that he was being prepared for a ceremony of some sort. He stared at the large puddle of red where his body once lay, but he didn't know how to process it. It wasn't the first time he experienced death, much of the time he was the cause of it. He also lost his mother in a similarly brutal fashion, and he returned the gesture to her murderers ten fold. Strangely, his thoughts went to wondering what Valeiah's people did to honor the dead.


   With a sigh, he grimly began the work of moving the bodies a little ways from the camp so they could burn them. He at least had the strength to do that.


   After ten minutes fiddling with it, Ashlar finally got the fire going again. The strong winds that swept over the plains made it hard to light- let alone keep it lit. He let out a curse, thinking how it would only take a matter of seconds if he were a mage. He glanced up at Aggie and Valeiah, offering them both a kind but tired smile. "Thank you for tending to her." He said to the young healer. Though he said nothing else, Ashlar knew she was hurting. He was thankful she had the strength to get work done even after a blow like that, and he knew what that felt like- he too lost his brother and even his mother some time ago, and though he managed without them, they caused wounds that never fully healed.


   Wanting to be of use elsewhere, Ashlar noticed Hjalmar and Dorian moving the daemon bodies in a pile to be burned and he followed suit. He walked up to a body sprawled on the ground- he was missing his arm, and his torso was soaked in blood from the wound which felled him. His eyes were still wide open, the last look on his face was that of despair. He almost looked human- were it not for the massive horns on his head, the strangely colored skin, and his elf-like ears. He had feelings. If he could feel fear- than he could feel anger, sadness, happiness- even love. Ashlar wondered at who he shared those feelings with, if some of his kind awaited his return with anticipation- his family, his friends. He was sure to have them. At this thought, a few tears escaped his eyes as he knelt over his fallen enemy.


   "Are you crying for that daemon?" A voice quietly asked behind him, and Ashlar quickly wiped away his tears. He turned his head to see the Prince standing behind him with an unreadable expression on his face. "I suppose I am in a way," Ashlar honestly replied, "I am honoring the fallen..."


   He heard the grass rustle next to him as Lucas copied his kneeling pose to hover over the daemon's body. He was looking at it keenly, and after a moment he finally moved his hand over the daemons eye lids to close them. He was silent for a moment more before finally looking on in gloom and saying, "I often wonder who they were before... whether they had rather stayed home with their loved ones- if not for the call of their king sending them to fight a war they may not even desire. What drives them to charge towards death? It must be more than their honor bound call, do they not also fight for their families and their friends? It is such a sad thing... that we fight each other over something as silly as a crown which holds no value when compared to the richness of life. I wonder... if we can ever find diplomacy, could we reason with them and finally have peace?"


   Ashlar didn't respond at first, for he was taken aback by Lucas's words. "You are a fine prince, young Lucas," he said with a small smile on his face, "and you are wise beyond your years. If only Kvacht had a mindset such as yours, perhaps this world would be a merrier place."


   At that the two fell silent again, but Ashlar could tell Lucas was grateful for his words. As they stood to their feet, they carried the daemon towards his pyre. Once this job was done, they could honor their fallen comrade. Lucas glanced back at the tent he was in to see Svetlana exit it, her eyes puffy and reddened from weeping. Lucas had never seen her look in such a way before... but there was something else, a look of determination. Her hands were clean, so the prince could only imagine that she had finished the grueling task that was preparing Alo's body.


   Despite not moving and keeping the appearance of sleeping, Yaroslav's slumber was restless. It was like he was on the edge of sleep, but he could not find peace. His eyes were sealed shut, and the noise around him was muffled, but he couldn't awaken- it was like he was paralyzed, aware, but unable to move. He heard a a soft inaudible voice, and he tried to focus on it. Eventually the voice became clearer, and he could tell it belonged to Oceana. She mentioned something about her father, something about how she wasn't meant to be born- and then she compared his red hair to her father's. At this, his mouth twitched into a faint smile as his eyes cracked open slightly, "Sounds like he was a handsome fellow-" he croaked, but his throat was so dry it ended with hoarse coughing. He groaned, and put his hand up to the bandaged blight wound on his side. After regaining his composure he exhaled, "Could you give me some water?" He asked, though he whispered this time as to avoid coughing again.


 

 
Oceana watched Yaroslav's eyelids dance on the line of consciousness uncertainly for several moments.


When the azure orbs were finally unveiled, the elf let out the breath she hadn't known she was holding.


She smiled, a slow and slim arch without teeth, eyes turned up at the corners. Weary but so full of gladness.


"Hello, cara. I'm so glad you're awake."


Suddenly he coughed and the smile flashed into concern. The huntress retrieved her waterskin.


She made to hand it to him but was unsure if he could do it on his own, so it remained in her hand, held almost halfway between them.


@Lo Alyssa


(lol can he?)
 
   Yaroslav put his hand up to stop her, "Just let me sit up, I can do it myself." He insisted, and then tried to prop himself up with his bruised arms, but he underestimated just how sorry of a state his body was in. His whole body ached from not only getting beaten to a pulp with magic blasts, but exerting so much of his own. His muscles strained under his own weight which he was usually so capable of carrying- and so much more. As he pushed himself up, he couldn't help but groan in fatigue. The injury in his side hurt enough on its own, but then the blight flared, sending a wave of throbbing pain through out his body. He gave a short cry before allowing himself to fall back to the floor, the back of his head hit the pillow someone had so graciously put there before- but that didn't do much to prevent the headache that followed his attempted feat. He panted for a moment, trying to catch his breath. He hated feeling like this. He grunted in annoyance, but succumbed to the reality; his body was not in good shape, and pushing himself like that would only make it worse. He slowly glanced at Oceana with a look of shame. Had his grandmother been there, she would have been sure to scold him for doing something so stupid.


   He was silent for a moment, not wanting to have to rely on anyone for help- he was supposed to be the one helping. He sighed through his nose, and keeping his gaze on the elf he said, "I... I think I will need your help." He said bluntly, feeling a great deal of embarrassment for being reduced to such a low state, "I hate feeling like this." He decided to add, "I want to be on my feet, helping in some way. But now I am stuck here, being cared for like a helpless baby." He growled.

 
Oceana started at the warrior's attempt to sit up and almost shouted at him but settled for giving him a stern look.


"You idiot! Of course you can't sit up yet..." The elf trailed off.


After all, it was my uncertainty that caused him to do something so reckless.


She shook her head at him.


"Tsk" and leaned forward to tip some water into his mouth, making sure to go slow so he didn't choke.


She stopped so he could swallow and then did it a second time.


The elf was slightly surprised at her own gentleness in taking care of another person.


"Well you were the idiot who threw yourself in front of an attack to save a stranger, so this is your punishment for worrying us out of our wits." She whispered back, only slightly joking.


"You deserve some rest." She clarified, capping the waterskin.


@Lo Alyssa
 
Valeiah stood up, nodding towards Ashlar. "It's not a problem... healing is my job." She said, trying her best not to mumble.


@Tater @Lo Alyssa


As the girl walked away from them, she looked at her bloodstained hands. She used to pride herself in knowing so much about healing, calling herself one of the wisest healers in her tribe. But most of her tribe was gone, along with her family, and now her brother. She hadn't been able to heal them. Thinking about it caused a deep ache in her heart, one she couldn't get rid of.
 
Pippa waddled towards Agitha in his little housepet form, his little stumps of legs going at their own pace as he plopped his little rump next to his partner. As terrible as the little dog was in her head, she took comfort in his presence and rubbed an ear between her thumb and pointer finger.


/The one you like feels sad./ 


/I know, I can see it./ 


/Know if he killed a man yet?/


/Not that I know of. What's it matter?/ 


Aggie flicked his ear a little bit and stood up, clutching her chest in habit,"Mmmff...even if he did I'm sure it would have been for a good reason." walking towards the young prince and Ashlar. Coming between the two she placed her hands on their backs, giving both a kind touch to announce her presence before turning to look down at Lucas, offering a kind smile,"I apologize if my wall of glass spooked you earlier." she smiled and picked a stick out of the prince's hair, her face going soft.


Pippa instead made his way over to the caravan and sat right outside, offering his head for pets and comfort if needed.


Looking at Ashlar she noticed the moisture on his face, her breath hitching,"H-hey are you alright?" wiping on his cheekbone with a slightly shaking hand, her brows furrowed with worry. "Do we want to...want to talk about what happened?" looking back towards the caravan, her heart lurched a little in pain. 


She didn't get to know the rest of the group as personally as she probably should; she was a tad shy. But that didn't mean she could help out others with their grief.


@all
 
There was a solemn stillness that rested over the camp in the aftermath of all the carnage of the battle. Bo had busied himself with ridding the bloodied site of the daemon's bodies, following suit with a few others and bringing them all to one area. He had to grab a few disembodied limbs here and there, noting to himself - that one was my fault - he could tell by the blackened edges of the arm. He wondered who the arm belonged to - which, oddly enough, bothered him more than the puddles of blood, or the disfigured daemon faces - only because he began to personalize it. And once he did that he knew he would not be returing to the world of the blissfuly unaware anytime soon. Of course, it was better to think about such things, because when he allowed himself to forget, that even the enemies were people (not often human, in their case), then he lost some honor of his own. 


Everyone's a bad guy to someone. And everyone is right in their own eyes. The important thing being, that not everyone who thought they were doing right actually was right. Still, it was confusing, and a slippery slope. Bo never really knew where universal laws of morality and human decency came from. 


To each his own, I suppose. Bo was quickly running out if brain space in which to ponder the deep things of life when he had so many present distractions surrounding him. Everyone seemed distracted and busy doing something - rightfully so, since gods knew he was doing the exact same thing for all the same kinds of reasons - but once the dead daemon body count began to dwindle (at least, the count of those in the camp), Bo decided to quickly finish up the task, leaving to go... be... be available, he supposed. Svetlana was always a suitable taskmaster when the need came, and Lucasta would probably (would she?) ask something of him if she needed it, right? She was injured though. As you already thought. Everyone is occupied.


Then he spotted Pippa.


Spoke thought too soon.


He sat down beside the fluffy beast and picked him up roughly (ruffly) and placed the dog in his lap. He began to massage the dog's neck with one hand, his fingers rotating in a circling motion. 


"You dissapeared there for a while." Bo commented to Pippa, not expecting a response. He'd pretty much completely forgotten that Pippa and Aggie had an inaudible way of communicating.


"I missed having you around lil bud. Or... big bud. You change sizes. I should just say 'bud,' I guess."


@Tater
 
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Garrett, who had ended up with the task of carrying away demons' bodies to the ever-growing pile, soon realized the mistake of taking a repetitive work: it gave him time to think. Not only was he now more aware of all of the little wounds he had acquired during the skirmish, but he also couldn't help to think about just how deadly this quest to be. Sure, he knew that someone of the group could die and he was at peace with the idea, he was a soldier after all, but he had never expected that someone would die. He couldn't help but wonder what would happen if he was next. His parents and siblings would probably guess what had happened after he hadn't written them for a while, but he knew that not knowing for sure could be torturous, and he had promised to come back to his sisters, they would-


There was a quiet murmur against his thoughts and a thought suddenly struck him.


'Hey Dorian, could you be slightly more careful when another fight comes our way?' He made sure to make it sound like a random reproach.


There was a burst of something across the link that Garrett was too tired to try to decipher.


'Don't worry, you're falling first. I want my freedom back.' A grumbled response came back.


The soldier made sure to reply with the mental version of a disappointed eye roll, though secretly he wondered why the familiar's answer comforted him.


Any other thought cut off when he heard a "Hey Sunshine, need a hand?" From the assassin before having a disembodied demon arm tossed towards him, landing at his feet. The soldier felt quite terrible for actually laughing at that.
 
   Yaroslav scoffed at the comment and rolled his eyes after drinking the welcoming water that soothed his soar throat, "Do not ask me why I saved that thief's sorry hide." He frowned, "I know you have a soft spot for him, whatever outlandish reason that may be, but he does not contribute to this group in any way. If anything, he only puts others at risk- especially with that mark on his arm. Oh yes, I know about that. It was hard not to notice when he... came rushing to my aid..." At this, the warrior silenced himself as he realized he was being rather harsh on the lad who, in all actuality, saved his sorry hide. Had Hjalmar not intervened, the she-daemon would have finished him off and he would not be around to complain about the thief now. Yaroslav let out a sigh, "I do not care for him... but I won't deny the honor in his actions." He admitted.


   After a few more moments of silence, Yaroslav looked at Oceana, "You should go help the others clean up, I will be fine here on my own, I do not need anything. Besides, I need someone who is actually capable of getting things done out there, and I can not think of a better person than you. My grandmother is probably at her wit's end, she will need the aid." The warrior closed his eyes at this, planning on trying to sleep once Oceana was gone.



 


   Lucas smiled at Agitha's approach, "Oh! Not at all!" He said with excitement, "That feat was rather amazing, if you ask me! I wish I could learn magic." Ashlar turned his head solemnly, clenching his throat he held back more tears, "I'm fine, dear Aggie." He said with a sniff, "It's just been so long since I've experienced the toll of war." He said, hoping that answer would suffice. Getting to his feet, he started for another deformed daemon body. Standing before it with a blank expression, he was silent for a moment.


   "Come help me with this won't you, you slackers." He joked, grabbing the daemon by its horns, "These guys are much bigger than me, I'll need some help. Between the three of us, we could get this job done in a cinch."


@Tater


 


   Svetlana, who had by this time regained her usual demeanor, walked by Garrett and Dorian who were making awful morbid jokes and throwing body parts at each other, she said, "Oi! Didn't your mother ever tell you not to play with your corpses. Shame on you." She jested with a small smile, taking the opportunity to make light of the situation since the air was thick with a heavy weight. Internally, she hoped everyone would get the daemon bodies in a pile soon, as the sun was on the rise and they needed to head out as soon as it's light touched them.


   Aside from that, there was only one more task to be completed.


   A ceremony for Alo. It would have to be short and sweet, regrettably. But she certainly would be sure to honor him.


   Approaching Valeiah, the old woman rested her hand on the girls shoulder who had just finished patching up Aggie. "This is difficult for me to ask," the old woman began, knowing that Valeiah was probably wanting to focus on anything but her brother's death, "but I must... I would like to honor Alo before we head out again. I am not sure if you're people had any sacred traditions when it came to burying the dead, but if you'd allow me to, I would like to honor him the way my people once did." She asked gently.

 
Pippa's stump of a tail started to wiggle as soon as he saw Bo, practically jumping into his lap as he was lifted up. Just as soon as he started to get some massages and squishes to his face and neck, his stumpy legs relaxed and flopped around with the rotations of Bo's fingers. Littlle happy snorting noises came from the dog as he leaned back against the magic filled man, one of his rear legs going as Bo rubbed the spot just on the back of his lower jaw.


/ I LIKE THIS HUMAN MORE. HE GIVES THE BEST PETTINGS OH there there yes there laaaaaaaawd


@soundofmind


Aggie did her best to keep her lips closed and stifled of laughter as Pippa forgot to cut off the mental link as he was getting some attention from his best bud Bo. Simply cutting it off she smiled towards Lucas,"If its not forbidden for you to learn magic maybe I can teach you some simple stuff on the road, yea? " tipping her head she chuckled slightly before turning to Ashlar.


Looking down to the body pieces that were scattered across the sand, her face puled into a sad frown. There was so many of them she was surprised that...most of them..got out alive. Squaring her shoulders she nodded and kissed Ashlar's shoulder almost absentmindedly,"Of course!" 


/I refuse to pick up a head./ 


Picking her way through spots of blood in her bare feet, she began to gather loose limbs like a bundle of flowers in her left arm, trying to keep herself contained. It was...odd picking up limbs and even grosser when they were still slightly warm...


@Lo Alyssa
 
"You know, for some reason talking to you is really easy." There was no pressure to keep talking because it's not like Pippa would respond. He didn't even have to say anything really sensical. That was the nice thing about animals. They were good listeners, even if there was no way for him to tell if they were really listening or not. At least they were there, which counted as something. 


Bo continued to pet the little dog, watching the crew finish picking up the last few littering daemon bodies. He felt a little guilty for sitting off by himself once he realized there was still some work to be done. He jokingly justified his absence by reasoning that he was in fact, doing something productive by petting Pippa, but it didn't lift the weight of the guilt he felt for not doing everything he could to help out.


"I guess I should really get back to it..." Bo mumbled, juggling his desire to cuddle with the dog, help his friends, and not look like a lazy burden. He let out a sigh and stood up, with Pippa still in his arms. You know, I can bring Pippa with me. It's not like he's scared of dead bodies. So with Pippa cradled in one of his big arms, he got up and began to one-handedly drag whatever carnage remained of the battle to the growing pile. He didn't let himself think about the lives lost, or the blood soaked ground, the freshness of the dead bodies, or the smell. (Of course, he still did, even though he didn't want to.) 


The fluffy dog in his other arm was quite comforting. While he'd already settled in his heart that he would be stronger and more stable for the sake of the group (and himself), Pippa was good company. He made sure to give him a few rubs and pets when his hands were free. Although he figured he should stop once they started getting dirty, and bloody, and gross. "Battles are messy." He said to Pippa, as if he were explaining to the dog how things worked. "And when you're in the thick of it, you forget that someone's always gotta clean up afterwards. In this case, those people are us." He plopped another one down beside his dead daemon friends (oh gods why did I think that - these guys were all friends, weren't they). "I wonder if the roles were reversed, how the daemons would treat our bodies..." They killed Alo mercilessly by ripping out his heart. That should give you some indication, Bo reminded himself. Still doesn't make me feel better though.  


"You're more of a carnivore, right?" Bo asked Pippa, again, not expecting any responses as he mumbled on to the dog. He shook his head, not really sure why he asked the question (although, now that he got to thinking, he did wonder what it was exactly Pippa ate). Sometimes his train of thought confused even him. "Nevermind. I'm just tired. Ignore me. Think about doggy things." Geez, it was a good thing he didn't have conversations like this with the rest of the people in their group. They'd probably think much less of him.


@Tater omg sorry for such a long response im
 
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Valeiah hadn't noticed she'd been standing, staring at her bloody hands, until the old woman touched her shoulder.


"I... no... no, it's not exactly a tradition, just something I need to do..." She looked up at her, sniffling slightly. "I just need someone to cut my hair..."


@Lo Alyssa
 
Oceana was slightly put out by Yaroslav's dismissal but tried to ignore her own ire.


"As you wish." She snarked, brows slanted, half joking half not.


As she emerged she caught the conversation between Svetlana and Valeiah.


She too, was curious about the girl's mourning rites.


Sea-green eyes narrowed in thought at the healer's response to the mage.


But when she saw the look in Valeiah's eyes, she knew exactly what it was all about.


She had the hard look of someone who had failed one they loved.


Who was filled with a crushing regret and defeat.


And had come to make a hard decision about them self. 


As if the nudged by an invisible hand, the elf stepped forward unintentionally.


Suddenly she was face to face with a phantom of herself in Valeiah's eyes.


"I-..." her voice halted, throat abruptly dry. She looked down and cleared her throat silently.


"I can do it." She murmured softly, once again meeting the healer's eyes; Aquamarine met earthy brown, joined like a lakeshore, on a horizon wet with tears accompanied by the whisper of echoing waves.


A single, shimmering ripple that stirred two weary souls.


@Danika @Lo Alyssa
 
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