11-02-2018, 10:57 PM
An overwhelming desire to help drives the mare to one of the sanctuary lands, even though she is currently unable to even help herself. After days of rest she has poured hour after hour into trying to heal herself, but she has only been able to heal the worst of her symptoms. The fiery fever that was wracking her body is gone, as is the sheen of sweat she thought she’d never be able to wash free, but she can’t heal from the lack of appetite or the cough for some reason. She had always thought that being a healer meant she could keep herself from becoming ill... but this plague is something else entirely.
She has been scouting the lands that have reappeared by magic, trying to find one that would be suitable to bring the other sick horses to. So far only the Island Resort seems safe enough—it is secluded and far away from the center of the chaos: Pangea. Cress had winged her way across the territory and so far, it seems unclaimed. Being an island makes it seem even safer in her eyes. So this, this will be home.
When she alights on the beach, the first thing she sees is a horse that shines like a beacon in the distance. As she draws nearer, she notices the mare that she helped before; she is feverish and ill as well, and it is all Cress can do to not offer her a shoulder to lean on. This woman has seen much suffering and hopefully she can stand on her own for now.
She realizes that she had never even learned the other’s name.
“You’re the healer, from Pangea,” she chokes out between fits of coughing. She notices that the wounds inflicted during the battle still shadow her flesh, and Cress grimaces in sympathy. “If you are not strong enough yet, I can help heal your flesh wounds. I’ve been at it a long time.”
Since they are both sick, Cress draws nearer to her, folding her own golden dragon wings tight to her sides. She looks towards the angelic stallion before them, tilting her head slightly as she breathes in his light. There is something about him... maybe he can help. “I’m Cress,” she offers.
“I want to help Beqanna heal. Can you help me?”
She has been scouting the lands that have reappeared by magic, trying to find one that would be suitable to bring the other sick horses to. So far only the Island Resort seems safe enough—it is secluded and far away from the center of the chaos: Pangea. Cress had winged her way across the territory and so far, it seems unclaimed. Being an island makes it seem even safer in her eyes. So this, this will be home.
When she alights on the beach, the first thing she sees is a horse that shines like a beacon in the distance. As she draws nearer, she notices the mare that she helped before; she is feverish and ill as well, and it is all Cress can do to not offer her a shoulder to lean on. This woman has seen much suffering and hopefully she can stand on her own for now.
She realizes that she had never even learned the other’s name.
“You’re the healer, from Pangea,” she chokes out between fits of coughing. She notices that the wounds inflicted during the battle still shadow her flesh, and Cress grimaces in sympathy. “If you are not strong enough yet, I can help heal your flesh wounds. I’ve been at it a long time.”
Since they are both sick, Cress draws nearer to her, folding her own golden dragon wings tight to her sides. She looks towards the angelic stallion before them, tilting her head slightly as she breathes in his light. There is something about him... maybe he can help. “I’m Cress,” she offers.
“I want to help Beqanna heal. Can you help me?”
infected.