06-24-2018, 11:46 PM
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The four eyed ocelot disliked knowing that someone's fate rested on her shoulders. However, that seemed entirely too possible what the current stakes were, by the panicked yells of some loud and panicked crewmate. That Pincher's daughter seemed terribly wounded and in need of serious medical help, on the double - and that loud alarm came with the complaint that healers were hard to come by on the Typhoon. So, as any good aunti would do, the spotted wildcat scrambled to collect any potentially useful supplies in a short satchel and headed off to where Goldie reported called out for help.
Spotting Argus and Goldie, the ocelot quickened her pace as she closed the gap between them. Noticing the assortment of healing items, her upper pair of eyes went to Argus as she asked, "Did you give her any medicine besides the alcohol?" She had poppy seeds, among other herbs in her bag, but obviously overdosing on painkillers - especially a subadult cat overdosing on them - seemed a poor idea. Especially - her main pair of eyes looked at the grisly head wound, wincing momentarily - as the child seemed to fit the description of concussed.
"Hey, Goldie, it's Aunti Rose. Can you tell me how you're feeling right now?" she asked, wishing the Roux family didn't have their pupil mutation. Otherwise, properly diagnosing this as a concision would be quite easy. Instead, she knew she supposed it best to act as though she held a confirmed diagnosis, considering the symptoms displayed so far - obvious headache, bump on the noggin, and disoriented stance.
Mumbling to herself, she waved her two tail-tips in the air, her four eyes converging to stare vacantly at a spot just above Goldie's head. In a few seconds, clean water streams rose from the ground until they reached the spot just above Goldie's head, where they promptly turned into a lukewarm and light shower. Obviously, it wouldn't do to start applying poultice and other things without even seeing the full extent of the damage.
Spotting Argus and Goldie, the ocelot quickened her pace as she closed the gap between them. Noticing the assortment of healing items, her upper pair of eyes went to Argus as she asked, "Did you give her any medicine besides the alcohol?" She had poppy seeds, among other herbs in her bag, but obviously overdosing on painkillers - especially a subadult cat overdosing on them - seemed a poor idea. Especially - her main pair of eyes looked at the grisly head wound, wincing momentarily - as the child seemed to fit the description of concussed.
"Hey, Goldie, it's Aunti Rose. Can you tell me how you're feeling right now?" she asked, wishing the Roux family didn't have their pupil mutation. Otherwise, properly diagnosing this as a concision would be quite easy. Instead, she knew she supposed it best to act as though she held a confirmed diagnosis, considering the symptoms displayed so far - obvious headache, bump on the noggin, and disoriented stance.
Mumbling to herself, she waved her two tail-tips in the air, her four eyes converging to stare vacantly at a spot just above Goldie's head. In a few seconds, clean water streams rose from the ground until they reached the spot just above Goldie's head, where they promptly turned into a lukewarm and light shower. Obviously, it wouldn't do to start applying poultice and other things without even seeing the full extent of the damage.
I FEEL SO HUNGRY —
— Dear diary, I don't know what's going on, but something's up / The dog won't stop barking, and I think my TV is bust / Every channel is the same, it's sending me insane / And earlier somebody bit me, what a fucking day / The sky is falling / It's fucking boring / I'm going braindead, isolated / God is a shithead / And we're his rejects / Traumatized for breakfast / I can't stomach any more survival horror / Dear diary, I feel itchy like there's bugs under my skin / The dog's gone rabid (shut the fuck up) / Doing my head in —— WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING?