when you are not fed love on a silver spoon, you learn to lick it off knives
Finn would love to continue their conversation about the Halenani and its guests, but unfortunately there's now a growing problem in his pants and he's furrowing his brow as Phoebe jerks back. "Hurt? I... no. No." He manages an airy chuckle, rubbing at the side of his head when he realises he feels quite a bit more alert already. And his head isn't pounding either.
"Are you a healer?" he asks warily, trying to keep his inherent prejudice about Abandoned at bay. "Or do... are you able to do something similar? I believe you managed to heal me, but it... it felt very good." Understatement of the century, and Finn sits up so he can surreptitiously hide the interest that has kindled within him.
"Are you a healer?" he asks warily, trying to keep his inherent prejudice about Abandoned at bay. "Or do... are you able to do something similar? I believe you managed to heal me, but it... it felt very good." Understatement of the century, and Finn sits up so he can surreptitiously hide the interest that has kindled within him.
Finn?
