OOC: Set immediately after this thread.

Fighting was not her strong point, so it was a pleasant surprise to have bested the other woman in combat. After wrapping things up, Basira had left the pit - and, as expected, she ended up attracting company along the way. Kismet had been so adamant about seeing to her wounds, and who was she to refuse the attention of a medic? Especially one as tenaciously persistent as her sister-wife? The maroon lioness drew to a halt once she'd found sufficient shelter; an alcove, big enough for the three of them to rest comfortably in shade and relative privacy. Settling down, with her back pressed against cool stone, she would shift her pale gaze from @Sahir to @Kismet, brow arching expectantly. "Alright then, medic - you may tend to me." She smiled a little, then, still a little smug at her success. It would no doubt last a while.

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Had it been a more serious fight, Kismet would have insisted on stopping sooner — even going so far as to treat her at the edge of the arena. But since her injuries are minimal, the youngest of the Najma clan had relented to finding somewhere more private, trotting after the maroon woman with leggy strides.

Eventually, they find an alcove that offers a respite from the sun and wind, and she meets @Basira's gaze with a little quirk of her lips, wasting little time in sidling nearer and depositing her kit on the ground. "You were so brave," she gushes while she works, cleaning the trail of blood down her neck with a clump of moss. She is used to seeing @Sahir fight — it is his way, his gift — but Kismet has never seen Basira engage with tooth and claw, and she is admittedly a bit enamored with the red woman just now.

+20 - Heal a character’s sickness or injury [1/2]

IS THIS A MEMORY OR A DREAM?

table by sentinel / art

"Alright then, medic - you may tend to me." Basira reclined against the stone, earning a snort of amusement from Sahir as he attempted to settle into their nook against the cold of the peak. She was lucky it was Kismet doing the healing and not him, for he thought he might try and make it sting a little on purpose.

"You'll make it go to her head, Kismet," he chided with a shake of his head, wearing an amused smirk all the while. "Or, do you intend to be the next great general?" He questioned, shifting his gaze to fall expectantly upon the red victor.

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|| september y7 | three years | rogue lion | at freyr peak | @Basira @Kismet ||

_{BG — ART — CODE}

As anticipated, @Kismet flocked to her side like a moth to the flame. She is grateful for the younger woman, truly, even if her actions speak the contrary. As the healer spreads out her wares, Basira would watch her for a moment, smiling slightly at the compliment. "Thank you." I do try. She flicked a tail in the direction of her husband - shooting him the bird the only way she could. A quick glare would accompany it, and her smile turned into a scowl. "Careful - I might have to beat you into insubordination, now that I've found my true calling." Spirits, imagine it - Basira leading great armies into war. She much preferred to do such things with her words, not with her bulk - or lack thereof. Her expression softened, then. "Why aren't you tending to my wounds too, @Sahir? Do not let Kismet do all the work." Don't be lazy.

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