Dec 02, 2022 1:41 AM
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Deskyl's a bit too tall to let Angharad lean on her shoulder, but she'll figure something out - she can carry her, if nothing else. Perhaps to Davyd's house, in fact; she's not confident that Angharad's foot is going to heal well on its own.

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Angharad's foot has helpfully broken one of the small bones; it could probably do with some actual medical attention.

She eventually submits to being carried, in reasonably good humour. "I feel like some kind of Dawnish prince, being rescued by a dashing Lady," she jokes.

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This gets a chuckle out of Deskyl.

(She's cautious about how she moves, now; with her sense of pain inactive there's a small but real chance of hurting herself by failing to notice that she's overstraining a joint or something.)

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And here is Davyd's house. It's quiet in the Steading by now; his door is closed and there are no obvious windows.

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She picks up a small nearby rock with her telekinesis to tap on the door with, rather than put Angharad down.

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Davyd is pretty used to being woken at stupid-o-clock by a tapping on the door. There's a muffled call of "Just a minute!", and a few moments later he's opening the door, in loose pajamas with his healing belt in his hand.

"What seems to be the problem?" he asks.

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"I kicked a rock. Well, a brick. Right foot. Doesn't like my weight any more," explains Angharad, fairly cheerfully. "It's kind of okay like this, but really hurt when I tried to stand on it."

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Deskyl swaps out her rock for a twig, floating it into view and then bending it until it breaks in half.

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Davyd's eyebrows shoot up at the noise; he seems to get the picture. "Ouch, that doesn't sound good. Do you want to bring her in, we can lay her down on the patient bed and I can get a better look?"

Davyd's front room is set up with a high bed frame, with a feather-stuffed comforter on top of a straw mattress; he stands back from the door, holding it open, and indicates this bed is where Angharad should be deposited. There is faint light from a couple of mostly closed lightstone containers; the fabric of the feather comforter looks like it's somewhat stained, in various shades of Things That Probably Should Have Stayed Inside Your Body.

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Deskyl settles Angharad on the indicated bed and steps back to lean against the wall.

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Davyd opens up the lightstone enclosures; it's still a fairly diffuse kind of light, but it's useful enough.

Angharad's foot is already starting to bruise; he examines it visually, touches it gently, and goes, "Hmm," a bit.

"Tell me, doctor, is it going to have to come off?" jokes Angharad.

"It looks like a clean break," replies Davyd, "and you came to me quickly, which is good. I expect a little mazzarine paste will see you right."

He selects a strikingly blue salve from his set of containers, soaks a pad of moss in it, and deftly bandages it to the affected area with some strips of cloth.

"In theory, you should be able to run off on that within the minute," he tells her, "but in practice, I recommend instead limping gently to bed, at this hour."

"Yes, dad," replies Angharad, pushing herself off the bed and immediately trying to stand on that leg to test it out.

The effectiveness of Cerulean Mazzerine is really quite remarkable - it surged into the broken area, fused the broken sections with a pulse of vitality, and even took care of some of the inflammation on the way through. There's still going to be a bruise and standing on it like that probably still hurts, but within thirty seconds it was distinctly no longer broken.

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Huh, nice. She'll lead the way back to Angharad's house, then.

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Angharad's house... has a roof!

It does not, so much, have walls. Certainly there is a nice sturdy wooden frame which suggests walls, including a door frame, but certain important elements are missing, like the actual door.

It does have most of a fireplace with a solid chimney, which is clearly where the rest of the day went after the frame and roof were up.

Also missing from this endeavour is a bed, although there is a haphazard pile of furs and animal skins unrolled onto the ground (on closer inspection, the frame does have preparations to fit a wooden floor, but the floor is not yet fitted).

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Uh-huh.

If she leaves Angharad to try to sleep here, she's going to be crabby in the morning, and that's not going to go well for anybody, given her track record.

Well. She has a bed, and she can't materialize walls but she can run a warming effect in her sleep, and share the deafening effect if noise turns out to be a problem. She can't exactly communicate this, but she can go get the bed, and if Angharad somehow manages to get to sleep in the few minutes it'll take her to return with it, well, she'll leave her to it.

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Angharad has snuggled down in her nest of furs by the time the bed appears; she seems somewhat surprised that a bed has materialised, but she starts to drag a portion of her nest sleepily up onto it, without really actually waking up in the process.

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Okay, that works, and she seems cozy enough that Deskyl probably doesn't need to hang around playing space heater.

She heads back to the forge to finish up the bits she's confident she understands, and then writes a note to slip under Allegra's door before going back to the tent to try to get some sleep herself.

Do you have a plan for getting Angharad settled in? I've been trying to handle things with her as they come up and it hasn't been going well.

- Xaari Deskyl

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Allegra, like most of the Steading, is very asleep at this point. She does emerge slightly earlier in the morning than usual, though, and waits with the group of people who are hoping to provide breakfast, listening to them gossip about how Deskyl went to someone's house last night and was the very picture of good manners.

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Deskyl is still not a very early riser, but turns up eventually.

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Allegra has a notebook and pencil in hand, but hangs back a little to let Deskyl negotiate breakfast first.

The less determined breakfast providers have drifted off, leaving a couple of teenagers brandishing a note that says 'Wild boar bacon! And apricots. Can deliver or come to our group house!', and one older lady with a note that reads 'egg fried breads and fresh fruit'.

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She asks the teenagers to deliver her some bacon and apricots - she's brought a bit of paper and a pencil out herself, and writes that she might eat with them tomorrow but she's busy today.

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They nod and scamper away; the older lady smiles at her to be clear there are no hard feelings, and drifts off back towards the Steading.

Allegra passes her the notebook and pencil, open to a blank two page spread headed, 'Got your message; particular concerns?'

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'Mostly she's not managing herself very well emotionally - she got so frustrated she dropped a brick on her foot and broke it, last night, I had to carry her to the medic.'

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'Textbook Changeling - no complications? Will settle when she can do real work, feels she has something to prove. Best just let her prove it.'

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'The foot is fine now, yes. I'll leave her to it, then.'

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'Can be hard to watch, but people learn best from own mistakes. No medals for meddling. Anything else you need?'

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