09-20-2018, 02:54 PM
[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 9.5pt; line-height: 1.4;letter-spacing:.1px"]As Imperia awakens to golden sunlight streaming through the windows of her humble stone cottage, something fills her with urgency--an internal alarm blaring, alerting her to an emergency that she has yet to encounter. Once upon a time, the phenomenon bewildered the young healer. She grew accustomed to it long ago, however, for she knows that in this manner, the Maker guides her to people who need her. Such is the manner of their relationship. Through her piety, Imperia has proved that she is willing to serve her goddess and so the Maker utilizes her to affect the world in a way a god cannot."Grâce à la Créatrice," murmurs the she-wolf as she rises from her bed. Imperia bathes herself in rose-scented water, dons her dove pendant, and secures her medic satchel across her torso before exiting out onto the plains.
Where she walks, Imperia does not know. An invisible string tugs the cleric in the direction she needs to go. No thought involved, only obeying divine guidance with the practiced patience of a devoted follower. As she draws closer to her destination, the winds shifts. The last of the light-hearted summer breezes, it tugs playfully at her fur; bringing with it the scent of blood and the Pitt.
"Do not fret," assures a soothing voice. "I am here, ma chérie." Trembling grasses pale as glittering gold part to reveal the slender figure of Imperia. A faint floral aroma accompanies her presence, contributing to her angelic appearance: gentle sterling eyes like that of a doll, a sweet smile, silky silver fur. The cleric does not bother to question Thea's identity--she recognizes the youth's aura, troubled and dark though it is.
Sagacious argentine eyes sweep over Thea's battered figure, taking mental inventory of the (visible) injuries. Cuts, bruises, wounded shoulder, broken paw... "Trouble finds you wherever you go," muses the older female as she settles beside Thea, a faint smile tugging at her lips. Peri does not ask what happened. She does not question the circumstance. She simply produces the necessary tools from her satchel and begins to prepare a splint for the youth's broken paw. "Are you okay without a painkiller for now? I would like to keep you coherent until I can get you back to the cleric's hide, but I can patch up for paw for now." She prefers to avoid distributing poppy seeds if she can, for she does not believe in encouraging a reliance on the herb. If one is not careful, they can become addicted to its effects. Plus Thea is still young and Poppy might harm her in ways that it does not harm an adult.
Where she walks, Imperia does not know. An invisible string tugs the cleric in the direction she needs to go. No thought involved, only obeying divine guidance with the practiced patience of a devoted follower. As she draws closer to her destination, the winds shifts. The last of the light-hearted summer breezes, it tugs playfully at her fur; bringing with it the scent of blood and the Pitt.
"Do not fret," assures a soothing voice. "I am here, ma chérie." Trembling grasses pale as glittering gold part to reveal the slender figure of Imperia. A faint floral aroma accompanies her presence, contributing to her angelic appearance: gentle sterling eyes like that of a doll, a sweet smile, silky silver fur. The cleric does not bother to question Thea's identity--she recognizes the youth's aura, troubled and dark though it is.
Sagacious argentine eyes sweep over Thea's battered figure, taking mental inventory of the (visible) injuries. Cuts, bruises, wounded shoulder, broken paw... "Trouble finds you wherever you go," muses the older female as she settles beside Thea, a faint smile tugging at her lips. Peri does not ask what happened. She does not question the circumstance. She simply produces the necessary tools from her satchel and begins to prepare a splint for the youth's broken paw. "Are you okay without a painkiller for now? I would like to keep you coherent until I can get you back to the cleric's hide, but I can patch up for paw for now." She prefers to avoid distributing poppy seeds if she can, for she does not believe in encouraging a reliance on the herb. If one is not careful, they can become addicted to its effects. Plus Thea is still young and Poppy might harm her in ways that it does not harm an adult.