[ In so many small ways, he and Hayame are cut from the same cloth. She holds the tatters of her pride to her with such ferocity, in the same way he clings to his own; a pair of them, with the remains of their hearts patched together by little else other than tenacity and despair. To relinquish any ground to others would be devastating. They are bluster and bluff, miserable in their independence and spiteful in many a way. He feels the need to apologize to her, for he is so very impartial in all matters -- his faith in her as a warrior does not exclude him from relationships with those she may hate.
Another time, perhaps.
For now, he settles near to her and does not immediately move to touch her person. First, he assesses her for visible injury. What is the worst damage done to her that he can see? How is she breathing, what parts of her body does she guard the most? There is no magic he can work that will effectively assist her, as he took on no healing incantations when he joined himself to Meridian's banner. They were not in his nature, after all, not in the way others were -- even the additional mote of power he received from the shrine in the Beyond did naught to provide him abilities like those of his sister.
Isis would know what to do. In fact, as he finishes looking Hayame over and finds her eyes again -- he feels his heart lurch, for she is so much like Isis. Fiery in temper, endless in her grudges. ] I sought the armory, in case the Atirat possessed weapons and methods that were new to me. There was nothing else, save for this, that wasn't touched by their Blight.
[ He reaches for it, only to offer the haft of it to Hayame to examine. It is ornate, clearly a unique piece. ]
I do not know who it belonged to, only that it must have been important. It isn't entirely ceremonial, for I have used it in battle a few times.
[ Once he has her hands involved with something, he can use his own. Fanning out his fingers, he reaches forth to lay them on the back of her own hands first, to sweep up her arms and examine her injuries for severity and depth, for effective clotting versus bleeding. ]
no subject
Another time, perhaps.
For now, he settles near to her and does not immediately move to touch her person. First, he assesses her for visible injury. What is the worst damage done to her that he can see? How is she breathing, what parts of her body does she guard the most? There is no magic he can work that will effectively assist her, as he took on no healing incantations when he joined himself to Meridian's banner. They were not in his nature, after all, not in the way others were -- even the additional mote of power he received from the shrine in the Beyond did naught to provide him abilities like those of his sister.
Isis would know what to do. In fact, as he finishes looking Hayame over and finds her eyes again -- he feels his heart lurch, for she is so much like Isis. Fiery in temper, endless in her grudges. ] I sought the armory, in case the Atirat possessed weapons and methods that were new to me. There was nothing else, save for this, that wasn't touched by their Blight.
[ He reaches for it, only to offer the haft of it to Hayame to examine. It is ornate, clearly a unique piece. ]
I do not know who it belonged to, only that it must have been important. It isn't entirely ceremonial, for I have used it in battle a few times.
[ Once he has her hands involved with something, he can use his own. Fanning out his fingers, he reaches forth to lay them on the back of her own hands first, to sweep up her arms and examine her injuries for severity and depth, for effective clotting versus bleeding. ]
Do you have experience in spearmanship, Hayame?