#☼*・ﾟ Interaction — ↳ sylverian selemchant

[feuerwizard]

@feyrevelry asked: "[ wounded ] sender patches up receiver's wounds" // non-verbal angst prompts;; open

The wizard exhales a sigh of relief as his kind companion skillfully tends to his injuries. Gale, though knowledgeable in many other areas, has never learned the art of properly dressing a wound. As he sits upon the forest floor, blood seeping from his arm, he can not help but feel out of place. After all, he is not a fighter by nature. “I must provide my most sincere of thanks, my friend. I’m afraid this homebody is not quite suited for battle, though we have little choice in the matter.”

[feuerwizard]

The wizard nods gratefully as his companion dresses his wound, the healing glow slowly knitting his skin back together. Though they come from vastly different worlds, a kinship has grown between the humble wizard and his new traveling companion together by circumstance.

"And there is little need for thanks, my friend," Gale says gently. "We all have our strengths, just as we have our fears. Together we make up for what the other lacks."

Or at least, that is the idea.

He looks up at the darkening sky, the first stars peeking through the canopy overhead. "You are right, we should make camp. This forest is not safe at night."

♛ —— ; "Thank you for saying that," he murmurs, his smile turning bittersweet.

"... If I am ever brave enough to face my fears at all, that is. You may not be a warrior, but you possess remarkable powers and wisdom, Gale. And courage."

Sylverian knows how hard it is to study the arcane; he tried. But he struggles to focus and he simply lacks the discipline required.

"I... well, I am utterly useless out here," he admits quietly. "I can treat a few minor injuries, but I am far from being a healer. I have trained the art of fencing at court, but courtly fencing lessions don't prepare you for the harshness of actual battle —— "

The young lord trails off with a mirthless scoff.

"Forgive me. It seems I am feeling rather somber today. And truly, there's no need to thank me…" He offers a small smile as he gently wipes away the last traces of blood from the now intact skin.

"There~" Gently, he adjusts Gale's sleeve. "It is getting dark... perhaps we should make camp?"

[feuerwizard]

“Oh, I am utterly terrified.” Gale looks up at Sylverian, brown eyes reflecting a sense of understanding. "Though they say fear is not a sign of weakness," he responds, his voice gentle yet firm. "It is how we choose to face that fear that truly defines us. So on and so forth." He holds Sylverian's gaze for a moment before turning to survey the forest around them, the shadows lengthening as evening approaches.

“I may not be a warrior by trade, and I suspect… neither are you. We simply make the best of a rather dreadful situation.” He looks to his companion with a reassuring smile, before glancing down at the slowly healing wound, impressed. “I truly appreciate your assistance in this.”

⸻ THAT MAKES two of us," Sylverian remarks with a gentle smile, one hand softly placed on Gale's back for support, the other hovering over the injury.

A warm, healing glow radiating from his palm, closing the gash. In all honesty, Sylverian hasn't actually learned how to cure wounds, either. As a nobleman, he never had to! But he discovered these abilities are innate, possibly due to his heritage.

"Aren't you scared?" he asks softly after a while, his voice timid. "You always seem so... calm." Unlike his companions, Sylverian is a nervous wreck ( well, he is trying to keep it together! ), and having to confront all this violence, the threat of becoming a mindflayer —— it is all so... terrifying!