He had seen her of course, how could he not. @Calypso was a close friend, one of the closest. She was snuggled firmly into his heart and his core in the same way his family was. They had met under random circumstances, and bonded over a severe lack of like-ness. She devoted and skilled and nurturing, and he a young crab-hunter with more ambition than talent.

Now, he needs her. And he hopes she knows it; the way his body is battered and bruised, his gut bleeding profusely where Aeistrios's hind legs kicked out at his abdomen. So he just waits, sitting not far from where the blood had been spilt, panting.

fear was a wicked beast, clutching at her heart, stealing away her breath. even with years of experience and skill it haunted her in moments like this, hastening her away from the rest of the lagoon members and to the side of her oldest friend. @Violarum was more than a friend, truly, for in the years since they had met on the shore he had become family; a son, in many ways, and she treated him much like one.

"i hope it be wort' it," she tutted as she drew near, allowing her fear for him to lend speed to her movements, removing her trusty satchel and rifling through the herbs. "congrats, aye?" an afterthought as she tugged out all that she would need, before turning to face her bloodied patient more fully.

UNDER THESE SMOTHERING WAVES

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There was a pant that festered at his sides even long after exhaustion had faded, born of bursts of pain that stung at his guts and made his lungs compress in an effort of distraction. Still, there is no regret, and as he watches his trusted friend emerge through the grasses, he greets her with a certain nod.

This was life. What else was worth bleeding for if not family and a home?

A purr attempts to thank her for her congratulations, ruby gaze intent upon the warmly familiar presence of @Calypso - but it rattles away with a wince. "I think my insides are outside," and his blocky skull would peer between his forelimbs as if to search for the sign of glossy organs. They were not there as far as he knew, still tucked away in his abdomen, but the warm gush of blood that dripped from belly to chest is enough to make him wonder.

it's not a pretty wound, nor would he would he escape without a scar, but it was not the worst she had seen. calypso had patched up injuries that were a matter of insides being outside, and though violarum's wounds were deep they were not that deep. "ye'll be 'right," she promised as she set to work, using damp moss and seaweed to clean the worst of it away. it seemed almost pointless considering how badly he was bleeding, but she had learned the hard way how important this step was.

eventually she is pressing the absorbent moss more firmly against the worst of his wounds, using her free paw to riffle through her things. it's a matter of being quick and efficient, sticking the skin together as best as she could while dealing with the blood that hadn't stopped. "ye'll have a scar, d'ough," she comments as she works, using some sap to hold the worst of the cuts together before covering them with bits of kept and various other plants and poultices.

@Violarum

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Her reassurance, however fleeting, is what he needed. He wasn't dying, at least not yet. Violarum positioned himself to allow @Calypso access to his underside, flopping onto his side so she may work without restriction. He would wince and grunt as she dabbed and cleaned the area, doing his bestest to keep it together - but at ease enough not to worry as he did in the company of some others.

"Good," is his remark to mention of scars - he liked scars. Her closeness, her blue eyes so buried in her work, gives Violarum a lot of quiet time to watch her - to appreciate her. "One day," he starts, wincing briefly as she pinched his skin back together, "I'll help you." Vio was hardly a man who felt he owed somebody, and yet in those long moments of study and reflection, he wished he had more to offer her.

Perhaps he was just coming down off his high.

Calypso would have expected no less of him. Scars were desirable for the men who liked to boast of their successes, or to wear them like a trophy carved in to their fur. Calypso carried her own war wounds, though her battles had been found in a strange place during her time in the mist. Missing toes and teeth, along with a variety of marks in her skin earned from a lifetime of piracy.

His second comment briefly pulls her attention from her word, meeting his gaze and surprising herself with the heat that warms her cheeks. "Aye," and her voice is faraway, "ye will." It was one of those moments where she seemed to see beyond the present, her eyes going unfocused and her paw stilling for a second.

Then she blinks and returns to her administrations, putting the last of the bandages in to place.


Rolling to heal: master perk, 2 dice instead of 1

Rolling 2d10: 5 + 4

UNDER THESE SMOTHERING WAVES

table by sentinel / art

One day he would push her for the stories of times passed, noting the odd weave of scar-tissue through her multi-toned coat and the way her edges were roughened by a history he knew little about. Violarum liked stories, especially when they were full of dragons.

"I want you to stay," he pouts, knowing she will not, growing saddened and wallowing in his vulnerability; the coursing of adrenaline from earlier leaving his veins dry with the chill of emotion. The Plains were nothing like the sea-side, and yet you could see the sea where cliff-face met the ocean... in the furthest corners.

@Calypso

in her youth she would have done so without hesitation. given up her home for a friend, moving where the current carried. now, with a husband and a family? calypso was as rooted to the lagoon as the land itself.

it suited her, with the rush of sea on sand an ever-present melody. and while she might have grown to love the hush of wind through grass it could never compare to the love she had for her flesh-and-blood. thus she is anchored, willingly, and can only press her head up under his chin to comfort.

"aye, i know," cheeky, perhaps, but she did understand his desire. calypso loved him, in their own unusual way, and wished she could whisk him in to the fold of her home, too. "but i am here when ye need me, no matter d'e hour." it wasn't enough but it was all that she had to give.

@Violarum

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It is a long and tortured sigh where her head pushes up under his chin, but he leans into it with a sideways rub. @Calypso had her own family, and he didn't even know them. "I will come to you soon," he says, knowing he always was the one who came to her, but not really caring for the complexity of pondering it.

He wanted to meet the lions that kept her so grounded, and gaze out at the ocean she called her heart - oh man, he really was coming down, wasn't he? With a final purr of appreciation, he smooches his healer whole-heartedly, bestowing her ruffled cheek with a textured tongue, and then he flopped right back down - feeling the toll of his exhaustion.

-- exit

one way or another they always found eachother. most often by the sea, but this time she had come for him, supporting him in the steady way she always had. calypso had not missed a challenge (or had she? the days blurred, now) and would always stand and cheer for him.

but when he mentioned coming to her it struck her, too, that he had never met them. not hakon nor any of her children -- the only one he had known was grit. there is a pang at the thought of her, one that softens her gaze for a moment, her mind a thousand miles away.

and then he is kissing her cheek and she is jerking away with an exaggerated groan. "ye better do d'at, aye? i'll hold ye to it." she would linger long enough to see him well and rested, to watch him disappear in to his home, and then she would turn towards the lagoon.

-exit-

UNDER THESE SMOTHERING WAVES

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