Naavi
The comfort of the silence, of the dead, is shattered when someone comes into view. Instead, there is guilt, as her cheeks flush brightly, and her name enters the air. "Nephele," she breathed out, her tone quiet, but certainly excited to see the other woman.
It's a crush that will never happen, because Alcyone spent decades at her side, and only a few years apart. It's a crush that guilt stomps on, any chance it gets. And of course, a crush is overridden the second she noticed the wound, and she is moving forward.
"Did you find trouble or did trouble find you?" She inquires, as she settles her basket down. Though Naavi has not yet been gifted the ability to quite literally heal wounds, she still devotes herself to healing, to learning the ways nature has created to keep them alive, because nature always provides a way.
True, no way to thwart death, but even miracles existed. The things almost a century of life had shown her? The things that Alcyone, who had been much older than she, had told her? There was so much out there. So much to see, to do, to learn.
But for now, her thoughts return to the wound hidden beneath a petite hand. "May I see?" She inquires, hands clasped in front of her until she receives permission.
"May I know what happened?" She did not mean specifics, not in the sense of who and what. But rather, what had been used, was it sterilized, any other important factors, including Nephele's own self-care of the wound.
It's a crush that will never happen, because Alcyone spent decades at her side, and only a few years apart. It's a crush that guilt stomps on, any chance it gets. And of course, a crush is overridden the second she noticed the wound, and she is moving forward.
"Did you find trouble or did trouble find you?" She inquires, as she settles her basket down. Though Naavi has not yet been gifted the ability to quite literally heal wounds, she still devotes herself to healing, to learning the ways nature has created to keep them alive, because nature always provides a way.
True, no way to thwart death, but even miracles existed. The things almost a century of life had shown her? The things that Alcyone, who had been much older than she, had told her? There was so much out there. So much to see, to do, to learn.
But for now, her thoughts return to the wound hidden beneath a petite hand. "May I see?" She inquires, hands clasped in front of her until she receives permission.
"May I know what happened?" She did not mean specifics, not in the sense of who and what. But rather, what had been used, was it sterilized, any other important factors, including Nephele's own self-care of the wound.
Sen
