07-21-2018, 10:54 PM
[align=center][div style="width: 51%; text-align: justify; font-size: 10pt; letter-spacing: -1px; font-family: georgia;"]Like any true predator, the stench of blood is what lures her here as it is carried along by the wind. As it tickles the button black nose of the nearby huntress, one would imagine that it inspire some sort of mouth-watering reaction as her brain prepares to digest its next meal. In any other carnivore, perhaps it would. But not Imperia. Her first instinct is panic, lithe figure moving on autopilot as she charges into the sea of grasses with uncanny grace. The silvery she-wolf leaps nimbly through the plains, barely sparing a glance to double-check she still wears her leather medic's satchel. Well, it's more of a glorified first aid kid that also contains whatever shiny rocks or pretty flowers that she has picked up along the way. But she carries it for these purposes--to be able to help anyone at a moment's notice. The girl does not even stop to consider the possible danger.
She is swift and sure-footed as she bursts from the grasses, emerald blades tugging desperately as luxurious sterling fur and tangling leaves within the gunmetal locks. Versaillespalace is already present, a fact which does not surprise her. The she-cat is rather feral, and strikes Imperia as the sort of person who prefers the solitude of the grasslands over the hustle and bustle of the main encampment. Peri arrives just in time to hear the ending of Vers's address to the wounded stranger. "Oui, please call a cleric. I will do what I can, in the meantime." Normally, Imperia would stop to take the time and introduce herself, but she is hastened with anxiety. It is urgent that she try to stop the bleeding before it gets any worse. She does not even notice Playerone as she crouches beside the injured feline.
"Stop me if necessary," she says, gazing straight into the eyes of the stranger. The girl wants to make it clear that she will take no offense if Magpierise does not want her to help. Some people do not appreciate strangers touching them. But until she is instructed to stop, Peri begins by taking a wet rag and trying to clean off some of the blood, searching for the wounds within the matted mess of fur. "My name is Imperia, by the way. Do you mind telling me how this happened?" Always helps to ask, especially when it might lead to the discovery of a less obvious wound. Besides, it keeps the patient focused on reality, lessening the risk of them drifting into unconsciousness. Peri very obviously could not care less about asking for the she-cat's anme and business. That can come later.
She is swift and sure-footed as she bursts from the grasses, emerald blades tugging desperately as luxurious sterling fur and tangling leaves within the gunmetal locks. Versaillespalace is already present, a fact which does not surprise her. The she-cat is rather feral, and strikes Imperia as the sort of person who prefers the solitude of the grasslands over the hustle and bustle of the main encampment. Peri arrives just in time to hear the ending of Vers's address to the wounded stranger. "Oui, please call a cleric. I will do what I can, in the meantime." Normally, Imperia would stop to take the time and introduce herself, but she is hastened with anxiety. It is urgent that she try to stop the bleeding before it gets any worse. She does not even notice Playerone as she crouches beside the injured feline.
"Stop me if necessary," she says, gazing straight into the eyes of the stranger. The girl wants to make it clear that she will take no offense if Magpierise does not want her to help. Some people do not appreciate strangers touching them. But until she is instructed to stop, Peri begins by taking a wet rag and trying to clean off some of the blood, searching for the wounds within the matted mess of fur. "My name is Imperia, by the way. Do you mind telling me how this happened?" Always helps to ask, especially when it might lead to the discovery of a less obvious wound. Besides, it keeps the patient focused on reality, lessening the risk of them drifting into unconsciousness. Peri very obviously could not care less about asking for the she-cat's anme and business. That can come later.