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Post by steampunkepsilon on May 3, 2010 19:13:41 GMT -5
The dragon didn't reply for a long moment, chest heaving and trying to force his breathing back to being some vestige of normal. The pain was really starting to sink in now, little details he hadn't noticed before driving the stinging in deeper -- small cuts, bruises, little breaks and chips he'd recieved running, fighting, flying, whenever. He flinched as he felt Thorgrim's hand press gently against his side, more out of instinctual reaction than pain. He closed his eyes, wincing slightly as he pulled his wings up, and swallowed. Setcher gave the boy a curt nod, and inhaled with a light shiver.
Tensing and stretching his neck forward slightly, he lifted one forepaw from the ground and stepped, claws making little nicks in the dirt, then another, and a third. Stiff going, and ever painful, but at least he could move. He paused and nudged Thorgrim with his tail, then turned his head forward and started off down one of the goat trails. Odin, it already smelled so strongly of them... goats and sheep. And humans. But he and the boy had to get back -- he had no intention of spending any more time here, or passing out before they at least got somewhere relatively safer than unfamiliar woods.
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Post by Ӊ ӑ z ҿ on May 28, 2010 14:36:58 GMT -5
If you had to reflect upon what had happened within just the last few hours, you would instantly think of this as something that should happen to someone else. But, if you had to get specific, all of us are "someone else" to someone else. This was the way Thorgrim viewed it. The line of events that had followed him here in the present seemed almost too surreal to really be true. But it had all happened, and there was no way to back out of it now. But, while he thought the thought was foolish, he couldn't help but acknowledge the fact that he enjoyed the predicament he was in slightly. He didn't know if that was just his Viking heritage, or the adrenaline beginning to wear off and make him slightly feverish, but to be pitted up against the odds with someone you know you can trust with your life was an experience Thorgrim enjoyed feeling the thrill of. But, grimly, he had to admit; the pain and hurt that came with it was something he would much rather do without.
But the one thing he couldn't bear to see was the person who had saved him, not just on one occasion but many, be hurt to the extent that he needed help from a race he didn't trust. However, while this did hurt Thorgrim to see it, he knew there was little other choice. They had to seek out the help of the village, whether either of them liked it or not. Feeling a slight nudge on his shoulder from Setcher's tail, Thorgrim turned and gave a small nod towards the dragon. It was time they were on their way. Slowly, he walked next to Setcher, his senses keen and constantly aware of his surroundings. He couldn't risk not foreseeing another attack, but he highly doubted one would come. They were too close to the village for that to happen, weren't they?
[/color] "We're almost there. Don't worry, I'll get them to treat you well. I'll make sure of it." His tone carried with it a strong sense of reassurance, hopefully enough to assure Setcher that he really would hold true to those words. And he would. But, overall, he wasn't too seriously concerned about the village. Dragons were more or less a common sight, and so Setcher wouldn't be treated too differently, or at least that's what Thorgrim hoped. Slowly, and at a pace even to that of Setcher's, he walked next to the dragon as the village gates slowly came into sight.[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote] ooc :: i'm so, so sorry about not posting recently >.< Hope you'll forgive me =/ Hope this post is enough to get the thread active again
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Post by steampunkepsilon on May 28, 2010 15:58:38 GMT -5
Had it been foretold to him, Setcher would have scoffed unbelievingly at the diea of going to a human village -- of his own accord, first of all, and with a human companion, and actually in need of the bipedal scale- and furless beings he had spent most of his lifetime purpisefully ignoring and avoiding. It wasn't necessary the most pleasant of thoughts, but he had little other decision in the matter... It was that, or suffer severely from the wounds and worse. The alternative was far worse. Besides the fact, other dragons had come to the village and teamed up with humans as their companions, with little negativity.... Perhaps they had discovered something Setcher had not.
Setcher inhaled and sighed heavily, head level with his body and wings hanging over his sides loosely. Walking slower than he would have preferred made the trip long and aggravating, but hearing Thorgrim's words did do something to uplift the dragon's wound-bedraggled spirit. His ears flickered slightly, and he turned his head, half-open eyes studying the boy for a moment before he nudged Thorgrim's arm again gently in response. Once they were within sight of the village gates, Setcher tensed somewhat, but didn't stop as he would have liked. He trusted the boy to his word, that was the least he could give the human, despite his misgivings. His spines shifted, wings lifting from his back a few inches and his claws nicking the dirt lightly.
ooc: r u kidding? Don't worry about it.
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Post by Ӊ ӑ z ҿ on May 31, 2010 14:58:56 GMT -5
There was something that was constantly on Thorgrim's mind. It wasn't really how the villagers would react to seeing a dragon that bothered the young boy. It was how they would react to seeing the type of dragon Setcher was, and the fact that he had no saddle or any other sign of ownership. What would they do then? Dragons had become a common sight in Berk, and so it wasn't too strange to see a dragon without a saddle or harness wandering around the street, but Thorgrim thought it would be otherwise if someone saw a badly injured dragon of a type they had never seen before. Once again, he was struck with confusion and anxiety over how exactly he was going to explain himself to all the other villagers. He let out a small sigh. He couldn't believe Hiccup himself had managed to go through all of this, let alone at a time when dragons had been considered mortal and natural enemies. Part of him wanted to go over to Hiccup and ask for some tips and advice, but he knew that would be giving Setcher away. But what was the point? As soon as they entered the village, Setcher would be given away anyway. Thorgrim was confused, alright, but he knew they had to do this. There was no other choice.
Feeling a gentle nudge against his arm, Thorgrim glanced over at Setcher, a fond smile on his face, and then he gave the dragon a gentle yet loving pat on the shoulder. He was reminded of just how strange their relationship really was. Within a span of just three or four odd days, they had forged together an undeniable bond with each other. But part of knowing that scared Thorgrim. How would this bond affect others? Dragon-riding had become common in Berk as well, but it had never really been in Thorgrim's blood line. In fact, he was the first in his family to really warm up to a dragon. How was everyone else going to take this?
After a few minutes of walking and deep thought, Thorgrim was snapped out of his thoughts by the sudden appearance of the thing he had been dreading arriving at all along: the gates of Berk. They were finally here at the village. Sighing, Thorgrim stopped and shook his head. Was this really a good idea? He didn't know, but it was either that or...something. He didn't have any other ideas or suggestions. So it seemed this was the only thing to do. He turned around and looked at Setcher.
[/color] "Okay, we're here. This is what we'll have to do; we're going to go in, and I'll look around for a healer that will be able to treat both of our wounds. But I need you to act normal. I know; it's a very strange and hostile place for you, that I can understand, but, please, don't act too strange." He then walked up and gave the dragon a light, gentle hug with his one arm around the dragon's neck."Everything's gonna be alright. Just follow me." He then slowly walked up to the village gates, which were open -- since dragons were no longer a threat, the guards didn't see much reason to have it closed during the day. Thorgrim swallowed nervously. He wondered how this was going to play out.[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote]
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Post by steampunkepsilon on May 31, 2010 18:20:36 GMT -5
The explaination barely registered with Setcher, even with Thorgrim was on the side of his head he could actually hear out of. The gates were not something he was enjoying the sight of as of now, but as stated before, there was little other decision. The human's reassurances were helpful, but his mood and opinion of his companion's home didn't change much. There was still suspicion and dislike. And there was still fear. So much fear.
The dragon furrowed his brow, pausing at the gate and taking a heavy breath. Thorgrim embraced his neck gently and turned, beckoning Setcher to follow him into the village, which the dragon begrudgingly did after a moment. He couldn't refuse. Don't act too strange... he mused absently. He didn't even care anymore, not now anyways. The pain had mostly numbed him through his back and neck and wings, making him stiff and uncomfortable, and he was in no shape even to protest if he wanted to. Wings folded up and head drooping beside Thorgrim, he stuck close to the boy, ears flickering around, half-open eyes taking in his surroundings uneasily. He could tell the young Viking was almost as nervous as he was himself, though the reasoning surpassed his half-concious mental capacities -- why would the human be worried? He wasn't walking around a cluster of strange dragons with no way to defend himself, he was home.
Other villagers began appearing, some simply going about chores and other realizing the dragon's strange presence, peering from windows and doorways and alleys between homes. Setcher's eyes widened a fraction, swallowing dryly and glancing from one side of the street to another. His spines shifted with a low scrape, and he found himself beginning to move a slight bit closer to Thorgrim as he walked. This wasn't going well. Years of built-up instinct went hand in hand with the natural anxiety brought on by fighting for one's life a good number of times in a couple of days, and as of now neither were doing much for him.
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Post by Ӊ ӑ z ҿ on Jul 3, 2010 12:46:26 GMT -5
This certainly would not be the first time Thorgrim passed through the gate to his own village -- he had done it so many times before. Sometimes, he would return from hunting trips, with his freshly-slain prize hanging over his shoulder for all to see, other times he would return from his walks through the forest -- walks he would often take just to get away from the village. And, whenever he had returned, the village never really felt any different. It was just the same old home he had grown accustomed to. The same thatched-roof huts, the same dusty streets and roads; it all blended together to form the village in which Thorgrim lived. And yet, as he walked through the gates now, it just felt so different, as if he hardly knew this place. The faces that stared at him now, despite Thorgrim being able to name a few, felt as if their gazes were preying deep down into the very fibres of his conscience, and he shuddered, wondering if he was doing the right thing. Yet that fiery determination had not been snuffed out, and he knew what he was doing was the right thing. He was helping the one being that had come to be his best friend; Setcher, and that was the right thing to do. Always.
Sighing to vent some of his pent-up anxiety, Thorgrim, without a word, marched through the village, in search for one of its few healers. While Vikings were a race, reckless, impulsive, and more than ready to fight a war, healers were few. Most herbs and plants that grew in Berk didn't have many alchemic properties, yet the few healers that did exist in the village knew of methods that could heal all but the most fatal of wounds. Thorgrim nodded his head. Yes, they would almost certainly be able to help both him and Setcher.
Glancing over to the dragon, Thorgrim noticed Setcher had inched considerably closer to him, but the Viking could understand perfectly. This was all foreign to Setcher. Humans were an alien race to this dragon, and Thorgrim knew that he would no doubt feel the exact same way Setcher did if he was in the dragon's shoes. Well, feet. Dragons didn't wear shoes, did they? It would be very odd if they did, mused Thorgrim -- it would almost certainly boost the stock exchange in the cobbler and shoemaker businesses. Yet even more strange was the fact Thorgrim was letting his thoughts drift to such weird subjects. Shaking his head, his focus returned back to the present, where it would stay. They needed to find a healer, and they needed to get out as soon as possible.
[/color] "We're almost there, Setch. Good thing nobody's bothered us," remarked Thorgrim, giving a reassuring nod of his head, and then reluctantly added; "...yet."The duo soon arrived at one of the huts Thorgrim knew belonged to one of the healers. Taking a few seconds to gather his courage and wits about him, the young Viking took a deep breath, nodded towards Setcher, and walked up to the door, giving it a firm knock. They were here, alright, and they had managed to evade the attention of any of the villagers, but would it last? While waiting for the healer to answer the knock at his door, Thorgrim turned to Setcher, and spoke."Don't worry; we can trust this man. He'll get both our wounds healed in no time. Just keep close to me. Once he's seen to our wounds, we can get out of here." Thorgrim then noticed he had used "we" instead of referring specifically to Setcher, and he blinked. Was he becoming that attached to the dragon?'
"Well, you can get out of here afterwards, I guess...That is, if I can come with you, which, er, I don't know if you'd really want..." [/size][/blockquote][/blockquote]
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Post by steampunkepsilon on Jul 3, 2010 13:08:50 GMT -5
Muscles tensing at the sight of the hut, Setcher almost yanked himself to a stop in the middle of the cobbled street and would have gone ahead with that action were he not suddenly struck with a painful reminder of the reason he was following Thorgrim in the first place. He was beginning to lose stamina, and patience, as the villagers pretended to ignore his presence around them and the dragons made no note to hide their interest. Several Terrors had been lagging behind him for a short distance, making as if they had no idea he was there when he turned his head and looked back at them sharply. When he turned forwards again, they skittered and crept after him, screeching and chattering between themselves and making his ears twitch in annoyance. He could understand various scraps of their universal language, dragon-talk and whatever other secret little words they had come up between types and breeds of dragons. 'Tall one' 'Blood?' 'Dangerous' 'Odd'.... it was beginning to nerve him, especially as the little demon-beasts clambered to the top of another building close to the hut, fifteen or twenty feet away but close enough. Thorgrim's reassurances were distraction enough, and his insistence that they -- they, not Setcher, oddly -- could trust this man or whoever it was they had stopped to visit eased Setcher's nerves slightly. He shook his head slowly at the last comment the boy made -- he hadn't ever really thought of leaving, to be honest, why would he? It wasn't something he'd considered.
Thorgrim knocked and as they waited, Setcher's ears pricked forwards, catching the little scurries of clawed feet on thatch. He lifted his head just above Thorgrim's and turned sideways, furrowing his brow and beginning to growl slightly at the Terrors. They screeched and scrambled over each other, snapping little scraps of insults and exclaimations in his direction. 'Bad!! Bad shock bad blood growly bad!! ' was all he could really distinguish. One of them snarled and leapt off the building, stumpy wings carrying it a few feet and then letting it drop to the ground will a low thump, where it rolled back onto its feet and hissed at Setcher. He snarled lightly, turning around to face the thing and hunching down to its level. His spines stiffened a fraction and he growled.
The Terror hissed at him again, jumping forward then back tauntingly and skittering from side to side. When Setcher didn't respond it crept closer, jumped back, and then crept again, swelling up and preparing to fire a little shot of flame at Setcher --
Before it could release the attack, Setcher snapped out both paws -- each at least as big, if not bigger, than the Terror itself -- and clapped them down on top of the smaller dragon. Black smoke puffed out between the gaps and he could feel it clawing at him, snarling and turning little circles inside it's cage. He snorted, dragging his paws closer and glaring at them.
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Post by Ӊ ӑ z ҿ on Jul 3, 2010 13:48:13 GMT -5
As Thorgrim waited, eagerly and hopefully anticipating the arrival of the healer at a time soon enough so that they wouldn't become a spectacle among the villagers, he heard something scuffling along the thatched roof above his head, and he looked up, furrowing his brows in curiosity. What was going on? The answers soon revealed themselves, and Thorgrim's eyes widened. A small group off terrors. It was quite ironic to think that Thorgrim had been so concerned over the villagers seeing him and Setcher, and he hadn't quite anticipated the reaction of the dragons of the villagers. Yet it had been for good reason: Setcher was also a dragon, was he not? The young Viking assumed that the dragons around Berk wouldn't pose much of a thread. But he had been wrong.
As the terrors landed and one particularly bold one began hissing at Setcher, Thorgrim took a hesitant step forward, wanting to intervene and break up the confrontation before it became a heated battle. Yet it wasn't exactly Setcher Thorgrim was trying to protect; he was perfectly aware of the fact that Setcher, if he wanted to, could easily kill the small terrors. The larger dragon was also far more powerful, and it was the terrors' ignorant, dim-witted curiosity and egotism that had made them provoke Setcher. Perhaps they really deserved some punishment -- Thorgrim didn't know, and, in the end, he thought it wiser to not get involved. This was a matter to be solved among dragons, and Thorgrim assumed that, by getting in the way, he'd only anger either Setcher or the terrors.
Suddenly, Thorgrim saw a flicker of motion and, before he knew it, Setcher had subdued one of the terrors under his two large paws, where the smaller dragon struggled to free itself. Unsure of what exactly to do, Thorgrim took a few steps forward, reaching out for Setcher.
[/color] "Setcher, be careful, you'll--"The young Viking was interrupted by the sound of the door behind him opening, and, surprised, he spun around to face the healer, who now stood by the doorway, his eyebrows furrowed in what could be labelled as a mixture of surprise and suspicion at the spectacle occuring right outside his hut. Letting out a nervous chuckle, Thorgrim stepped forward to the large Viking man, whose eyes widened as he saw the state Thorgrim was in."Um, hey," said Thorgrim, scratching the back of his head, "as you can probably see, I'm--"The Viking immediately demanded to know what exactly had befallen both Thorgrim and what the healer described as "his dragon" that had caused them to end up in such a state. The young Viking boy was surprised to notice how the healer didn't seem too surprised at Setcher himself, rather at the dragon's wounds."Well, it's a long story, but we ran across some wolves in the forest, and, um," Thorgrim nodded, "that pretty much sums it up. Can you see to our wounds now?"With a gruff snort, the healer nodded and gestured towards the interior of his hut, inviting them in. Turning around, Thorgrim gave Setcher a reassuring smile and pointed inside the hut. There would be enough space for the both of them inside the hut, but that wasn't what bothered Thorgrim. Would Setcher go inside?"C'mon, Setch, and leave that terror alone. We can deal with him later."[/blockquote][/blockquote]
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Post by steampunkepsilon on Jul 3, 2010 14:08:45 GMT -5
The terror writhed and hissed within its clawed prison, unable to gnaw its way out or slip between Setcher's paws. His eyes narrowed as he felt little needled claws and teeth jab and prod at his thicker calloused skin, not painful, but nonetheless aggravating. He saw Thorgrim move towards him a bit out of the corner of his eye, and his warning to be careful was taken into consideration. He was annoyed, yes, but he wasn't a cold personality. He didn't have the intention of killing the terror, no matter how absolutely relentless it could be. He was about to lift his paws and free it when there was a low groan of wood and metal hinge, and Setcher's spines snapped up, eyes widening. Still holding the little lizard-beast in his claws, he lunged forward and spun a sharp circle, body throbbing from the harsh movement as he rose up on his hindlegs and looked down at the doorway in unease. The terror screeched at him, begging release, but he had almost forgotten the dragon for a moment.
Seeing the man and hearing his gruff nature returned to him a sudden sense of fear, as the man and Thorgrim discussed the events preceeding this visit. He was tense, but relieved that the older Viking hadn't imediately taken up defense. That alone allowed him a moment of relaxing. Thorgrim turned, pointing to the hut and mentioning the all-but-forgotten creature still trapped within his claws. Setcher looked down at the beast, who's eyes he could see through a gap, and tightened his hold. He suddenly threw both forepaws up, launching the little beast into the air. It shrieked protest, but caught air as it came tumbling down and flitted off clumsily. Setcher looked down at Thorgrim, then to the hut, then back at the boy. His spines flattened, ears dipping down under his jar, and he growled.
Dropping back down to all fours, Setcher crept towards the doorway, sniffing around the frame of the door and the ground in front of it. He growled again, eyes flicking up to the man, then at Thorgrim. His ears flicked back and down in nerve, and he reached towards the boy, grabbing the edge of his sleeve in his teeth and nudging him ahead. Slowly and somewhat shakily, he followed Thorgrim into the building and clung to him like no end, combating smells and sounds and sthe straneg feel of wooden flooring beneath him. A fireplace, a pot, a pan, a knife... he studied them and looked around nervously, hunched over beside the boy.
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Post by Ӊ ӑ z ҿ on Jul 4, 2010 17:27:40 GMT -5
To be quite honest, Thorgrim actually thought it would be a lot better if the healer saw to them indoors instead of outside. After all, fewer villagers would see them, and, besides, it would prevent Setcher from getting in even deeper trouble. Well, trouble. His small confrontation with the terrors were among the least of Thorgrim's current concerns. The primary things that were on his mind were making sure Setcher got in and out with little attention from the villagers, and, of course, that the both of them get healed. Other than that, little else mattered. In all honesty, Thorgrim himself thought things were proceeding at a relatively smooth and relaxing pace. Nothing bad had happened yet, and that meant that nothing should really disturb either him or Setcher, as long as they kept a low profile.
As he heard Setcher growl, Thorgrim contemplated the idea of actually doing this. Would the dragon allow it? They had come so far that to turn back would be the height of folly, but Thorgrim couldn't really blame Setcher for how he was acting; this was probably all new to him, and any aggression on the dragon's part was probably born out of a sense of self-defense and suspicion. Feeling Setcher nudge him forward, Thorgrim walked through and into the hut, glancing around. The interior wasn't too different from the other huts -- it accommodated the same furniture and other accessories that could be found in almost any other Viking hut. With the exception, of course, of the items of healing equipment scattered here and there. The healer was experienced, but that didn't mean he was too organised. Oh well, this would have to do.
The healer stepped up beside Thorgrim and beckoned him into one of the adjacent rooms, where far more of the healing equipment was evident. From small jars of herbal ointment, to surgical tools that made the Viking boy wince to think of what it must feel like for them to be used on you. Viking medical technology wasn't too advanced or sophisticated, and most ordinary problems were solved very quickly and not too efficiently, but it could still be trusted. Besides, he and Setcher had no other choice -- it was either this, or succumb to the injuries they had sustained.
The healer pointed out that Setcher would be the first to be seen to, but Thorgrim stopped him before he could examine the dragon, exchanging glances between the dragon and the large Viking man.
[/color] "I think it'd be better if I checked him out -- you just tell me what to do," suggested Thorgrim, turning back to look at Setcher, "he doesn't like strangers getting too close. You okay with that, Setcher?"[/blockquote][/blockquote]
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Post by steampunkepsilon on Jul 4, 2010 18:56:28 GMT -5
He could barely believe he was actually doing this, willingly trapping himself in a confined space with humans and their weaponry splayed out at their whim...Eyes wide open and taking in every possible scrap of detail in the room, Setcher felt suddenly overwhelmed in the small room. He could move about just fine, but it was very confining and extremely unnerving being inside the home of the same species he'd grown up fearing and having little good mention for. Humans had done his kind wrong, perhaps not him personally, but seeing the heads of other dragons being used as decoration and their bones as Viking weapons was not something one easily forgot. He briefly considered thrashing his way out of the room and taking for the hills opposite the village.... but he couldn't. Not only would he be commiting suicide, he'd cause all sorts of damage, and to leave Thorgrim there after the boy had near laid his life down for Setcher would be next to heartlessly cold. He didn't want to stay there, but he swallowed heavily and braved the cramped home and its inhabitants.
Following the Vikings into the other room, he was struck by an overpowering array of smells and scents, practically slapping him in the face and flooding his nostrils, his mouth and tongue, his brain. He shuddered slightly, shaking his head and still standing behind Thorgrim as the man and the boy spoke, discussing the fact that apparently Setcher would have to be the first to be seen to. He wasn't paying much attention, brain rushing and trying to decipher between good and bad scents. It eventually all just melded into one suffocating cloud, and he let out a low grumbling noise, coughing and dropping to the ground.
At Thorgrim's suggestion, he flicked his eyes upwards and stared at the boy, then to the man, and let out a heavy sigh, slowly lifting his wing and stretching it stiffly to where it could be fumbled with. He turned his head away, burying his face beneath the opposite wing to free himself -- at least a fraction -- from the godawful atmosphere of the room. He doubted either of the humans would smell it as thickly as he did, and he silently cursed his nostrils for allowing him to suffer such an onslaught. he didn't care what the boy or the healer did, he simply wnated to do what needed to be done, sleep, and get out of this place.
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Post by Ӊ ӑ z ҿ on Jul 13, 2010 15:27:45 GMT -5
As Thorgrim turned around to look at the dragon behind him, the young Viking was unsure of how exactly to carry this out. Sure, they were only in here to get healed, but things were a lot more complicated than they appeared. For one thing, Thorgrim knew that Setcher probably wouldn't want the healer anywhere near him, and that already presented a problem. For another thing, it would be up to Thorgrim, then, to carry out this medical procedure, but with inexperienced hands. Oh boy. Things just kept seeming to get worse. Thorgrim let out a sigh and turned back to face the healer, whose gruff expression hadn't changed. Instead of remarking with any comments, the healer only nodded in approval and sat down on a nearby stool, motioning towards Thorgrim and Setcher.
The young boy nodded and stepped up to the dragon, uncertainty and hesitation evident in his body language. He wasn't sure what exactly was going to happen, and he could only rely on Setcher's patience and the healer's knowledge. Looking back as if to say 'what do I do now', the healer told Thorgrim to apply healing salve to the wounds on Setcher's wings. Thorgrim nodded and picked up the small jar of herbal salve and stepped back over to the dragon.
[/color] "Okay, I don't think this'll hurt you, but it might burn a little," warned Thorgrim. He didn't want to hurt Setcher, but even he didn't know if the wounds would burn when they came into contact with the salve or not, and so he figured a fair warning had been in order. Nodding, Thorgrim dipped his fingers in the healing ointment and, slowly and tentatively, began placing it on the wounds on Setcher's wings, being very careful and gentle not to hurt the dragon.[/blockquote][/blockquote]
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Post by steampunkepsilon on Jul 13, 2010 16:04:51 GMT -5
Laying there on the floor, the dragon could feel Thorgrim's hesitation, and it worried him. The boy was inexperienced and nervous, afraid to hurt him and probably -- hopefully -- afraid to get hurt himself. His hands would be unsteady and he could end up only doing more damage.... but Thorgrim had saved his life... Setcher owed him at least trust for now. He didn't know what the healer would suggest or how they could possibly do that much to help him, and for once he had little reason to care. Setcher heard Thorgrim move towards him, followed by the boy's reassuring comment and the sudden cold sting of healer's salve against his wings. His eyes shot open and his claws made small tears in the wood of the floor, his initial reaction being to snapped his wings up in pain, but he dug the small claws at the tip of his wing into the ground as well and bore the pain until the stinging cooled. Eyes clamped shut, he growled low in his throat, but didn't thrash as he wanted to so badly. After a few minutes, the wounds almost began to go numb, and Setcher closed his eyes, too tired to care anymore regardless. He remained still as Thorgrim continued to salve the wounds and stayed silent through whatever else he might be instructed to do. The array of smells dizzying him along with soreness and fatigue was too much for his senses.... Before long, the dragon had fallen dead asleep on the floor of the healer's hut.
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Post by steampunkepsilon on Oct 30, 2011 21:55:50 GMT -5
-rubs pads together- CLEAR!! -bazzzap- LIVE!
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Post by Ӊ ӑ z ҿ on Nov 2, 2011 15:27:56 GMT -5
As Setcher slowly settled down, relieved by the soft lullaby of sleep, Thorgrim smiled. Even though he was worried about his dragon-friend, he was also glad to know that Setcher was able to rest, at least. That was something they both needed, he guessed. Carefully and meticulously, Thorgrim applied herbal salve to the last of the dragon's wounds, and then stood up, looking over his healing work. In all honesty, he was surprised he had enough salve, he thought with a smirk. After all, Setcher was a fairly large dragon.
Sighing softly, Thorgrim pulled up a nearby wooden stool, and sat on it, a few feet away from Setcher. The young man's back hurt, and his legs were cramping. That was not to mention the stinging burn of the wounds on his arms and torso. But, all in all, he felt relief - relief at the fact that both he and Setcher had emerged alive. He shuddered to think what might have happened had Setcher not been there when the wolves attacked... In a way, Thorgrim owed Setcher his life.
Thorgrim's eyes snapped open as he realized he had almost fallen asleep. The physical fatigue was slowly beginning to take its full toll on his body, and the young Viking was beginning to struggle to stay awake. As if on cue to reinforce the fact, Thorgrim yawned.
In a sense, it was all so surreal to think how he had met Setcher just a few days before, yet such a strong bond of friendship had been forged under the heat of the most unusual circumstances. Yet it was a friendship of iron comradarie. They had looked out for each other, and they had made it out together. All in all, that was not too bad for new friends. Not at all.
Rubbing his eyes, the young man looked at Setcher once more.
"Well, we made it out, buddy... And we're still very much alive."
With that, the Viking reached out his hand and, gently so as not to disturb Setcher, scratched his friend on the head, allowing his fingers to run smoothly over the draconic scales.
OoC:: Augh... Poor post. Sorry... Haven't roleplayed for months. I hope to regain my lustre soon, though. x3
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