Nothing but Memories.

[Skylar]

"A twisted smile crept across the man's face, and while he was certainly responsive to Skylar, he wasn't responding in the intended way. Rather, he seemed a bit more aggressive, almost angrier. As if her request was unreasonable and terrible.

"What, you want to go back to that boy and the little girl? So that pathetic boy can have you? I don't think so. It's been thirty years, and I'm not willing to wait another minute."

The man would push Skylar away violently, towards an old mattress in the corner of the room. It was aged and dirty, much of it likely from the man, and he drew a knife from his waist pocket.

"After thirty years, someone else finally came down here. And we lucked out, too... You were women..." "



Sweat poured off her body as she sat straight up in bed. She wasn’t sure if it were her screams that woke her up, or the sun blazing through her window, none the less she couldn’t shake the filthy feeling that violated her like the memories of times long since past.

Once in the washroom she filled the basin with fresh water, and gazed at herself in the mirror. A good long look at the face staring back at her. It wasn’t the same face it was back then. She looked slightly more mature, her hair longer, but all in all the same person, but so much different...

Shaking these thoughts from her head, she carried on washing and dressing and grabbed her bag to head to the clinic. It wasn’t much really, but she helped who she could and no one here asked questions about her unorthodox practices. All that mattered to them was that she healed their ailments, and charged next to nothing.

Other then herself, there was one other person who worked in the clinic, mostly checking people in and out. She was an elderly woman, much like the one that worked at the hospital, save for the fact she was not so hateful. “Good morning Skylar.”

“Better now anyways.” Skylar laughed and gently squeezed the old womans arm. “Is it going to be a busy day today?” She grabbed a thin light green jacket off a hook that had her name on it, and put it on over her tank top. “I reckon a constant flow if nothing else.”

She stopped for a moment, tossing a glance over her shoulder. “Pardon me?” The woman laughed at her for a moment. “I don’t know where you go when you do that Sky. I said, I reckon a constant flow.” Skylar flashed her a smile. “Trust me, you don’t want to know either.” It was said more under her breath, but still it was these moments she thought about them....where they were, what they are doing now. She couldn’t help but wonder if they would even notice one another on the streets, or if either of them ever took a moment and thought about her.

That was then though, and this is now. There was no reason to dwell or have regrets now. She wouldn’t take back a minute of it. The sound of the door opening pulled her back to the here and now. “Miss, my arm....can you help me?” A young man stood in the door, blood running down his arm. “Oh my...yes, please come this way.”

Following her into a small dark room, she would offer him a seat on a make shift bed. “Have a seat and relax, you’ll be just fine. Close your eyes, and start counting, focusing on each number.” Once his eyes were closed, hers would as well. Nimble fingers feeling over the wound. Her sight would allow her to see the extent of the damage, which wasn’t as bad as it first appeared.

“27, 28, 29, 30, 31...” His voice was shaky, yet calm. “And stop. We’re all done.” She smiled to him, running her hand through his hair almost playfully. “Be more careful next time, ok?” She looked a little tired, but nothing out of the ordinary. The boy looked over his arm, and back to her. “Well, I....I thank you.” With a nod he was up and heading toward the door. “Oh, stop and talk to Lila up front, you can make good with her.”

With that said, she took a seat in a big comfy looking chair in the corner. One thing that didn’t change, between healing she needed time. Time to regain her strength, time to fight back the memories.


Note: The italics at the beginning of this post is from an older thread that included this character. Thanks to Ramlock for allowing me to use it.

[SeditiousAmbitions]

Lamashtu walked calmly along the trail. His body was numb. He carried himself with much less rigidity than normal. It might have something to do with all of his injuries. His left hand was wrapped in a cloak of some sorts that was held together by random pieces of chain mail. The fabric that stuck out in random places was nearly black and dripping a dark crimson though the original color appeared to be blue. His main weapon, a short staff having blades on either sides was lashed over his right shoulder. Over his left shoulder was the pelt of some kind of animal with black fur and large claws. In his right hand, he clenched a dagger so hard that his knuckles were white. There was a series of horizontal slashes along his lower back and right side consistent with a large cat or bear. His face had a few bruises and his right arm was a weird purplish-red. Other injuries were covered by his boots and trousers.

From a distance, Lamashtu looked like the walking dead. His skin had actually paled from the massive loss of blood he had sustained. Fortunately, he knew enough about wounds and the world to find things that will slow the bleeding. He also knew which herbs would maintain his strength. However, if one were to get close, they would see the intensity in his eyes. The elf was far from dead and by the expression on his once handsome face, he was not even tired. The resolve he carried was enough to keep trudging along.

A village lay before him. It was the next on his list of stops in his quest. Lamashtu had been searching for nearly six years for this woman. Each leg of the journey had brought him closer and closer but it seemed that she never stayed in one place for very long. A warrior near the end of his journey would normally begin to feel relieved but Lamashtu was far from. Finding this woman was only the key to beginning the next phase of the quest which she would also share. He was looking forward to have someone bear this weight with him. He had been sent against his will but could not refuse an order from the Council of Pembroke. No citizen of the culture could do so and stay within the land. Lamashtu was 'persuaded' with threats against his parents and sister. He worked diligently to be the best warrior in the region. His dream was to win the silver chalice at the annual tournament and then travel. Instead, he wasn't allowed to compete and sent wandering around the world and told not to return until he had succeeded.

As he hobbled along the road, strangers gave him looks of concern, fear, and pity but none would offer him support or encouragement. This was of little concern to Lamashtu. he did not want their help nor need their pity. he could find things on his own. His survival thus far had proven so. He scoured the buildings for signs or marking and saw one with the traditional field sign for medicine. he made his way towards it with steps that began to lag from his initial pace. Once he reached the doorway, he stepped through and peered about for someone who appeared to work there. Seeing one elderly woman, he made his way through the room. This was not hard as most people shrank back away from his presence. "Old woman, I am looking for someone you may know. She is a healer, is elven, and is more beautiful than any of the filth I have passed thus far." Lamashtu's voice was gruff but even worse than normal. His dehydration made his tones almost like a growl or bark however the volume of his voice was relatively low. "She goes by the name of Skylar, or used to, and she is the Duchess of Pembroke." He studied the old woman's face for a second with piercing eyes. His intent was clear and needed not be said. Lie to me and I will cut you in half. "Do you know where I can find her?"

[Skylar]

The mouth of the old woman slowly opened widely as she searched for the words that were on the tip of her tongue. She was unable to think, to speak as her eyes roamed over the mans wounds. Gashes and lacerations, blood and gore as if the man had just stepped from the battle field. Her first impulse was to run to him, offer him a place to sit while she went and got Skylar....

Skylar...

The room was still dark, and she had sank deeper into the chair. Her eyes closed as she hummed to herself, resting. Wounds such as the young mans no longer required her to rest for a considerable amount of time. She simply felt a bit flushed for a few moments and was good to go again.

“Calm down, calm down!” Lilas’ voice was louder then normal. Perhaps out of shock, or fear, perhaps a warning. “Rest for a moment and let me see what we can do for you here, ok? You’re safe.” Lila rounded the corner, careful to say away from the man. Maybe she could warn Skylar, tell her to run. The old woman would gladly give her life to save that of a woman such as Skylar....but there was no need.

“What’s all the commotion about?” The words dripped from her tongue like honey, fluid, and sweet. She rounded the corner and paused for a moment, taken back by the mans apparent wounds, well aware that under his attire more were hidden.

Skylar had not heard the words of the man before she entered the room. “Please, lay your weapon down and come with me so I may tend to you. I am Skylar, and you are safe here.” A gentle smile perked the corners of her mouth, illuminating her face brilliantly as she lifted her hand and reached out toward him.

[SeditiousAmbitions]

Lamashtu bit in the inside of his lower lip while he watched the old woman twist. Skylar was definitely here or close by. The woman's reaction was enough to indicate to the elven man that she was debating what lie to use to throw him off Skylar's trail. Calm down? Lamashtu was calm. He did not want to hurt anyone here but he would if one lie spills into his ears, more blood will spill at his feet. When the old woman made a comment about him staying put and being 'safe', Lamashtu almost laughed. As the old nurse slipped away from him, he called after her in the same gruff and scratchy voice. "I don't have time for-".

What's all the commotion about? Enter the six year mark; Skylar, Duchess of Pembroke. Lamashtu did not react at all to seeing her. He stood calmly and sheathed the dagger in his belt. He watched everything Skylar did with severe scrutiny. He listened as she spoke and closed the distance between them. When she reassured him of his safety, he allowed his face to show a bit of a smile but only on the left corner. "I am safe because I control my environment." As he finished the last word of his sentence, his right hand flashed forward like a cobra with Skylar's outstretched hand as his target. Like any true predator, he never misses. Lamashtu's hand curled around Skylar's and he yanked her close to him, almost to the point of pulling her against his frame but that was not his intention and he adjusted the strength of his action accordingly. His eyes blazed. Lamashtu had finally achieved the first half of his mission and was now eager to begin the rest of it so he could go home.

"So nice to meet you, Duchess." His voice was still raggedy but revealed he a great deal of willpower driving him. "We have business to attend to, you and I. Go get your things and pack light." he tossed her hand away from him and took a step towards the door. "We leave as soon as you're ready." Lamashtu felt guilty about his behavior though there were no indications. However, his demeanor and tolerance for things like manners and the proper way to act had been stripped of him over the trials of six long years. His wounds multiplied the affects by creating a walking and functioning beast. Programmable if one has the proper key, but deadly and efficient if one were to try and stop him. He gazed about and several people who hadn't already fled were making their way out by tracing along the walls. A few brave souls looked as if they might step in to protect their beloved healer. A single glance from the warrior to each individual caused pauses and an eventual one-eighty in behavior.

[Skylar]

His statement struck her odd. There was no one here that would hurt him, or any of them for that matter. Before she could think any longer on it thought, his hand bolted up and caught her own. An audible gasp escaped her partially opened lips. A bit from being startled, and from the prowess she possessed to “see” his wounds.

When he jerked her closer, even if not his intention, she tripped and fell against him. It was only when his words were spat from his mouth did she push herself away from him and ripped her hand from his grasp.

“That is not who I am anymore. Whatever you were searching for died 6 years ago.” Maybe not so much 6 years...but it was gone. She was gone, or at least different. “I’m not sure what makes me think I would leave here with you stranger. You wounds need tended to, you have lost a large amount of blood. That is the only business we have.” There was nothing cross about her voice, not even so much as a grimace upon her almost flawless features as she spoke to him.

She rubbed her reddened hand slightly, but as quickly as it had turned red, it returned to the smooth mocha texture it was before. She gave herself a moment to think on all he had said. How did he know who she was? Through all the things she had been through, no one had even came looking for her, least not that she knew of. She looked back up at the man, an almost blank expression on her face.

“Please, let me tend to your wounds back here in a private room. We can discuss this further if you wish, but asking me to leave with a man I know nothing about, concerning business I know nothing about is asking a lot, don’t you think? It will not take me long to mend you. I implore you stranger, you are asking for me to travel with you, I am asking for mere minutes.”

She raised a brow and beckoned toward a room.

[SeditiousAmbitions]

Lamashtu did not move from his spot. How selfish! His eyes became cold and wide allowing more light to be swallowed by his expression. It was as if he was creating a void around his being. This was not any kind of magic. It was simply his aura and at present it was radiating an all-consuming rage. Seconds passed by but for Lamashtu, it seemed like forever. He had finally gotten to his first objective and she was being defiant. If that wasn’t enough, she was denying her birthright. It was an actual insult added to his injuries. The warrior quickly surmised that he had nearly died almost two dozen times in his quest to find Skylar.

She was not going to move without an explanation. Lamashtu walked up to Skylar and towered over her for a second. The breath from his nose would hit her on the crest of her forehead. He paused only for a second and then sidestepped past the healer towards one of the rooms she had indicated. He shoved open the door and peered in cautiously before entering. He walked to the small table and set his weapons down upon it. He also tossed the skin he had been carrying onto the floor in the corner. He then went about unwrapping his left hand. Bloody tunic [not his] and pieces of chainmail fell to the floor revealing that his left hand had been crushed. It was hard to identify fingers at all let alone which was which. The palm and wrist were a mere pulp. A bandit’s mace had done this. Unfortunately for the bandit, Lamashtu was right handed and ripped his throat out.

Lamashtu paused for a moment and began to undo his belt and strip from his trousers. He had noticed her eyes sinking to the tears in the fabric. He knew she would want to heal his body in its entirely. He just hoped she didn’t try to ‘heal’ his spirit. It was annoying when strangers encountered a warrior and fell to the belief that a man who kills for sport or pleasure or work must surely be broken inside. The elf shook his head and stepped out of his boots and pants and stood naked in the room. His legs were solid with bruises and small cuts. There were several long scars on his left leg that twisted. The collection was ugly and hard to determine what left it. The real story was a baby dragonkin thought the sleeping elf would make a good meal. Lamashtu had to kill it and it’s mother to convince them otherwise. For all his faults and wounds, Lamashtu was a picture perfect sight of masculinity. Every muscle was perfect; every one. Every bone was in the right place and his frame cast a perfect shadow. The kind a little boy sees and thinks he is standing before a God. Battle himself would be jealous of the creation that Lamashtu had become. There was not a soul on the planet that did not envy Lamashtu’s appearance. Woman wanted him and men wanted to be him for a very good reason.

[Skylar]

As he stopped before her, she looked up and him and smiled, nodding her head at him. He walked past her and into the room, with a sigh of relief she turned to Lila. “Send everyone home, and head out yourself. Lock the door behind you.” There would be no argument, as much as Lila didn’t want to leave Skylar, she didn’t want to be in the same building as that man either. With a long glance, Lila moved, shuffling people out, only to pause at the door for a moment before leaving.

By the time she entered the room he was unwrapping his hand. The damage was horrible, she would be exhausted by the time she was done here. Her eyes scanned over his chest, down his arms, drinking in the extensive wounds he had.

Turning, she took down a basin and a cloth, wanting to first wash each site knowing full and well that she would not have the strength to do so after the healing process was through. She turned back to him, only to notice him stepping out of his clothes. Clearing her throat she averted her eyes elsewhere, telling herself...she was a professional. Although, she was sure a blush may have stolen her features for but a moment.

Slowly she approached him, cloth in hand. “This may sting a bit.” Her voice was a mere whisper as she began to clean his wounds with the solution. Gently she would start with his face. It was strong, chiseled jaw line, perfectly aligned nose...again she cleared her throat a bit.

Down his body she would work, meticulously cleaning each wound over his chest and abdomen, and so on. His muscles rippled like none she had ever seen. He was in fact impressive.

Once all the wounds had been properly cleansed of any grim, she again spoke to him. “Please, lay down and relax. I must tell you, with the wounds you have, I will be exhausted when I am through. I ask that you do not take advantage of my weakened state.” She locked her eyes to his. Her statement held no sexual meaning, she simply did not wish to wake up in god knows where. “I’ll just need some rest is all, and then I’ll be fine.”

Taking a seat beside him, she inhaled deeply, clearing her mind and concentrating on his body. She folded her legs up under herself and laid her hands on either side of his chest over each pectoral. Her hands took on a feint blue aura as she began her work. “So, what do you want with me?” Her eyes were closed as she spoke, spending all this time healing helped her learn to converse while doing so, at least for now while she had the strength.

[SeditiousAmbitions]

Lamashtu remained motionless and stoic as she tended to him and his wounds. He took note of the care and meticulous demeanor in her hands. There was probably a weapon or two that she could wield with a high rate of effectiveness. He doubted she would ever lift a hand unless cornered but such was the way of healers. The healers had their tendencies just as the warriors did. Lamashtu would rather save his words for important things like mocking a dying man. Trying to reason with anyone was absolutely out of the question.

He did as she asked. Lamashtu sat on the table, swung his feet and legs up, and then laid his body down. He relaxed as best he could as she spoke. The tone of Skylar’s voice was peaceful and easy to listen to. It fit her occupation and her personality well. Lamashtu was very adept at reading people. Her hands were soft and her frame was lithe. He wondered to himself how well she would travel. Once she had finished speaking, he responded. The difference in his tone was actually feeling the soft light from her hands running through his being. It softened him and his demeanor. “I will not rush you or abduct you from this place, but you have to come with me.” Lamashtu shut his eyes. The healing process was making him dizzy and closing his eyes to reduce stimulation seemed to ease the feeling. “I was sent by the Council of Pembroke. The Stone of Asclepius has been stolen. A warlock maddened the trolls from the jungle and they ransacked the temple. The entire order was slaughtered. I was ordered to find you and retrieve it.” He had to pauses moment and allow his breath to catch up with him. The healing process took its toll on the wounded as well. “The warlock wants to corrupt the stone and use it to drive everyone and everything mad. We don’t know his name.” Lamashtu opened his eyes to study her response. It’s not what people say that shows their feelings. It’s what their bodies do that reveals truth.

[Skylar]

She listened to his words as she worked, sliding her hands down his chest to his abdomen. She knew well what he spoke of. The Stone of Asclepius, passed down from the god himself to her people. “Just relax, the feeling will pass soon.” Her voice was still soothing, and she had yet to pass a compliment on his words.

“I’m not sure what any of this has to do with me.” True enough her father was part of the Order, and if they were all killed then... “My father?” There was no change in her facial features, no waiver in her voice as she spoke. She was still calm cool and very collected.

The wounds on his chest and abdomen healed quickly, leaving a few traces of dried blood in remembrance of where they were. She stood, taking a deep breath and placing a hand on the bedside to steady her rather unsteady gait. She closed her eyes mumbling to herself encouragement and strength before moving to the other side of the bed, lower now to his mid-section and thighs.

“Why would they need me to retrieve the stone with you? You seem capable.” She lay her gentle hands upon his body once more, closing her eyes to focus on the wounds. Not that she thought she was unable to take on such a task as he spoke of. After what she had been through, she was almost certain there wasn’t much she couldn’t do. Crafty as she was though, it was more the reason why that kept her from leaving immediately, that...and his wounds. “By the way, I didn’t catch your name.”

Her voice was starting to become a bit more feint, her breathing seemed labored slightly now. However, she pressed on, knowing he would soon be healed and she would be exhausted beyond words.

[SeditiousAmbitions]

The warrior was surprised that she did not react in any way to the news or prospect of her father’s demise. That was a surprise to Lamashtu. He figured a healer would have more compassion for her family, but then again she did leave the country entirely. She also could be one of those people who simply swallows any grief. Such emotional restraint was not healthy to the psyche. Lamashtu was very good about expressing any frustration, sadness, or elation.

He felt strange but much better as his wounds closed one by one. He lifted his left hand up so he could watch his fingers open and close. In truth, he didn’t think she would have been able to heal it back to normal. Skylar was certainly talented in her art. Lamashtu would venture to say that she was as dedicated to her profession as he was to his. He did not know how to respond to her about her father and thus said nothing. He watched her as she moved about and healed various areas of his body. He could read from her posture that she was growing weaker. He was beginning to figure how long of a lull they would have once she was finished.

The words she spoke to herself were inaudible but it was obvious what she was doing. Lamashtu had presented her with a challenge of which she had not dealt with in some time. When she asked about her purpose in the whole scheme, Lamashtu was relieved that he had been given an answer for the very question she asked. “I am very capable of getting the stone back from those that stole it and killed so many of our people. That is why I was chosen.” He lowered his cold gaze at her. Skylar did not know Lamashtu, but his past had left him frozen against all but his parents and his baby sister. His fighting discipline did not allow him room for anything else.

“You, Skylar Burke, are the only living being left who can handle the stone. I am not to touch it. The warlock who holds it contaminates it with his very essence which is why the journey is so important.” He paused to watch her for a moment longer before continuing. The next part would be the setting of the hook. Her demeanor would not allow the next to go without registering some sort of a response. “The stone has already been used to elicit chaos. Several of the tribes in the jungle have been wiped out. The nearest our scouts could figure out was that they went mad and burned down their own homes.” Lamashtu had to pause again. This time, it was his own emotions that drew his breath away. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he grew angrier. An elder of Pembroke used his magic to occasionally contact Lamashtu and update him of the ongoings back home. The longer Lamashtu was away, the more his anxiety over his family grew. “You are a very talented healer, Skylar Burke. I am Lamashtu. I am to safe guard your journey to the stone and then back to Pembroke.” He laid back and hoped that explanation would be enough. He didn’t want to have to drag her along and was not going to fail.

[Skylar]

“Please, just call me Skylar.” She forced a smile, not because she didn’t wish to offer him one, but because she could quickly feel herself being drained. Mentally she was frustrated, but she couldn’t allow that to stand in the way of the healing process that would be important for the future of the warrior beside her. “It’s a honor to meet you Lamashtu.”

She understood that if the stone became corrupt, it could very well be an ugly ending to her kind. Not exactly the weight she wished to bare on her shoulders....least it seemed she wouldn’t have to do so alone. It was painfully very obvious what needed to be done, and luckily she knew herself well enough to know where she stood in the world.

Shifting her weight beside him, she placed her hands on his face, sliding them down over his neck and impressive traps. A quick movement, yet more gentle then a normal touch, would carry her hands down his arms and back down over the entirety of his body. Finally, she was pleased with the report of her sight, his wounds were healed, though he would require some rest himself after the process.

“I....I will go....with you.” She brushed a few raven locks from her brow, her lids fluttering open, to closed. “Rest....I.....I need..” Before her words could finish she collapsed across his body. Her breathing was beyond labored, and it was her intent to make it to her chair where a pillow and blanket awaited her. This though...this was much more then she had taken on in a long time. Wounds she saw on a daily basis were basic. Farm work wounds, household wounds....his however, drained her worse then could remember, or at least...any she wished to remember...

[SeditiousAmbitions]

Lamashtu felt like he was seasick. He noted the forced smile. The right corner of his mouth curled up a bit. The last thirty or forty people to meet him died and it was mildly humorous that she was honored to meet him. He allowed his face to somber up. He knew the news would eventually sink in. He did not wish to upset her and complicate things when they seemed to be going well.

He knew what sorts of terrible and rigid trials awaited them. The journey would be ridiculous and he would gather some rest while Skylar did. He was more tired than he would ever admit. He stopped thinking about these things when she began to run her hands over his entire body. It was a weird sensation to have such gentle contact. The warrior was used to a great deal of contact but it usually involved brass knuckles and some kind of blade or whip. It was something he wasn’t used to and it almost made him uncomfortable. The feeling passed as she agreed to the quest. It was a huge burden off Lamashtu’s mind.

He didn’t have too much time to think about it. She collapsed on top of him. Lamashtu parted his mind from the mission and used his hands to gently lift Skylar from his chest. He held her in limbo long enough to twist his form on the table and get his feet on the ground. He slid a hand under her arm and around her back and dipped sending his other arm under her legs. Because of her unconscious state, her body folded completely into his grasp. She was light even at dead weight. He carried the healer to her chair and set her down gently. He then propped the pillow behind her head and tucked the blanket over and around her. He used a few fingers to brush the hair back from her face. He tilted his head to the side to match the position her head had taken. He smiled some and walked over to his clothes. He stepped back into his trousers, slipped on his boots and then began buckling his belt back on. He turned around and watched Skylar for a minute. He tucked in his dagger and slung his staff onto his shoulder. He sat on the table and allowed his head to sink so that his chin rested on his chest. Sleep would be faint for Lamashtu. Any noise or vibration caused by anything larger than a mouse would be noted and accessed. He would not necessarily wake, but he could assess most threats without moving. In a few hours, the real journey would begin.

[Skylar]

It was peaceful, the slumber to follow. It always was. Only this time, it was not ruined by nightmares.

Hours had passed before she awoke with a start. It wasn’t that something had frightened her, just that the last thing she remembered was sitting on the side of the table and the feeling, or perhaps dreamlike feeling of falling was the one that had awoken her.

She gasped audibly, gripping the arms of the chair. With a deep inhale and slow exhale she shook her head. She felt s strong again, her breaths controlled her color normal. However she knew she must re-nourish her body, and that was exactly what she stood to do.

In the far corner of the room stood an odd looking contraption, something she was given as payment for her services. With some odd power, it was able to keep food cold, and from it she took a bladder of water and from the top of it some jerky.

She wasn’t sure how deep of sleep her new companion was in, but she tried to be as quiet as possible knowing his rest was just as vital as her own. After a long satisfying yawn she drank and nibbled on the dried meat. Taking note that Lamashtu had gotten dressed and she wondered if he had a hand in placing her in her chair, oddly, the only place she seemed to get some real rest.

[SeditiousAmbitions]

Lamashtu did not dream. He never did. Never had. It was weird to him. The concept of dreams baffled him. For the warrior, it was better to leave things like that alone. There was no point in trying to understand a phenomena that no one could truly explain. He heard her stir for a minute or two before she finally woke with a start. Whatever dream Skylar was having were obviously stressful. He thought it was interesting how she attempted to be quiet. His years of traveling had made him silent in most actions if he chose to be. Her yawn, the soft shuffle of her feet, the movement of the blanket from around her; all of these things made soft sounds that rang in Lamashtu’s ears. He heard her move to and open the contraption. He did not need to know what it was and did not particularly care.

As she sipped at the water; he slid from the table without a sound and went to the door. He turned and leaned against the jam and watched her revitalize herself. It was good. She definitely had the right idea. He was glad she was taking initiative. It was a relief for him. He did not want to have to coerce her into anything. It would make the journey so much harder if he had to hold her hand the entire way.

Lamashtu watched for a moment as she continued to eat. If one would call that eating, it was more like a mouse nibbling on a piece of cheese. It was no wonder she didn’t weigh as much as a loaf of bread. The elf cleared his throat and leaned his neck from side to side. Tendons rolled as his neck vertebrae popped and cracked like they always did when he performed this stretch. He rolled his shoulders a few times and the movements created audible pops from various ligaments and joints. The warrior was smiling at the healer. He was excited to be at one hundred percent and embarking on a journey. “Ready?” The look in his eyes was a cold meticulous sight but held a fire that could only be described as Christmas.

[Skylar]

She saw him move from the corner of her eye, but the way the subtle light kissed his facade was enough to convince her to stay silent. His stealthy grace quit a sight to behold in all honesty. It was only when he cleared his throat did she look up at him with a nod. “How’re you feeling?” She was not ignoring his question, merely buying time as she was not yet ready to go.

She placed the water and the jerky in the chair and grabbed a bag from behind it. In the opposite corner of the contraption was a small desk with several drawers. Opening the first she removed a small switchblade in which she placed in her pocket. Moving her hands a few drawers down she took out a fresh change of clothes.

Shoving the clothes into her bag, she grabbed a small box from the desk top and placed it in with the clothes as well as the jerky from the chair, along with what was left on top of the contraption. Perhaps she should tell him about her other prowess, but alas she stilled her tongue. There would come a time and place for that conversation, and she felt now was not the proper time.

From the wall she took a small hatchet, the blade covered with a thick heavy leather sheath. Shoving the last of it in her bag, she slipped off the shoes she had on, and eased her feet into her hiking boots. They were sturdy, well built and oh so very comfortable to her. She knew well the importance of being prepared, and while she would gladly take more with her, she preferred to pack light. "I'm sorry I was not better prepared for myself after the process. I'm usually not so drained. It will not happen again." She flashed him a look of perseverance. She was not a weak woman, and would not be looked as, as such.

Elegant foot falls carried her mere inches from the warrior. Once more she looked over him, his physical status...well....healthy to say the least. Gently, she ran her fingertip down his face, should he not move away, her lids falling closed for only a moment. He was well, fully healed. “I am ready.” She locked her eyes to his hoping he would see the curiousness and commitment there. She would do her best to not fail him.....and then some.