#🏹|| alogaia

[thcdoomed]

“Yeah, but you should see the other guy.”

HURT / COMFORT : STARTERS || accepting [🏹]

|| @wisdomlibrarian

She never understood that sentiment. Why would she want to see the other guy when she is more concerned with the person that stands before her now? To the hells with the other guy. Dronia was already rifling through her bag, pulling out the necessary supplies to patch her up, shaking her head all the while at such a silly statement.

"Why would I want to? You're the one I'm concerned about. Sit down, let me patch you up until we can get Shadowheart to heal you properly at camp."

[thcdoomed]

"I'm sure." Her answer was short and to the point. She had to sell that she was sure, she had to let them know they could rely on her. That she was strong and capable of leading them. That she didn't feel like her entire world was perpetually crumbling around her and she was drowning in the wreckage uncertain if she would even be able to breathe. No, she was fine, she had to be fine. She had to keep telling everyone she was fine until she believed the lie herself. Gods, what a terrible lie to uphold, it exhausted her. And yet, not even sleep was a reprieve. When she dreamed, they were nightmares, and when the visions of that night didn't plague her sleeping hours, the Dream Visitor occupied her head, wearing the face of her dead fiance. Speaking with his voice. She clung to the hope that it was him, but he didn't speak like Caius. It was a false hope.

"Giant spiders, ettercaps, chitines. All manner of nasty things." She shrugged, "It's not silly, it's curiosity. I enjoy talking about my trade, it's not a common one to have. Most people hear hunter and think of the usual game animals. Not what I hunt. We harvest the parts to sell to wizards and other spellcasters. As you know, they are great alchemical components."

❝Are you sure? I don't mean to question you or what you define as fine for yourself at all. I am sure it does get difficult from time to time or perhaps I am led to believe so. It sounds like a lonely life but it can well be the opposite for you. I know some people prefer being alone and far from civilization.❞ Alogaia shifted her weight around. A mean to say she's not sure how to go about with these kind of topics. As wise as she is from time to time, sometimes she found herself in times of trouble with offering good advice or words that could help soothe a troubling heart. Her hands - and spells - could do more soothing than her actual words. It only made her frown at the mere thought of how she can't always help in terms of words. Only if her spells could work. Rather, they could, but she didn't want to risk stepping on anyone's toes.

❝Is it just giant spiders or is there other types of beast you have to face as well that requires these arrows? My apologies if it seems silly. My time is mainly spent in the Sword Coast.❞ It's not that she doesn't know exactly, but it helps better to fully understand the situation and the image popping in her mind.

[thcdoomed]

Go. To. Bed. That's an order.

Lack of Sleep Starters! || accepting [🏹]

|| @wisdomlibrarian

Dronia didn't look up from the arrows she prepared for the next day. Better arrows, ones that could take an enemy down in one to two shots, lessen the suffering and shorten the fight. Anything to make their journey easier.

Anything to keep her from having to sleep.

"I'll sleep when I'm tired. There's too much to tend to." Too much to avoid.

[thcdoomed]

"I have spent most of my life in the woods, on long hunts, camping, I am used to this kind of life. I'll be fine." She wouldn't, but she hated people fretting over her. And she wasn't about to say that she was absolutely tormented by recent tragedies. She wasn't ready to face that grief and acceptance. She just had to work through it and focus on everyone else's problems. It's just what she did.

Her eyes returned to the arrow she was working on, securing the arrowhead to the shaft with care. Father had taught her the skill from a young age, one day she would learn to even make her own bow, but the one she carried with her was more than perfectly suitable, in the meantime.

An archer always knew what worked best for them, whether it was arrows, bow type, shooting style, or whatever. And Dronia was a lifelong archer. "They're fairly typical arrows for what I'm used to hunting. My prey is rather... unique. Large beasts that stalk the forests. Giant spiders. So I need something sturdy enough to pierce the hardened outer layer of the spiders." She came to adding the feathered fletches to the arrow. "Since I was a little girl. My father taught me how to make them just right for our job."

❝Good, I hate to see you push yourself to the brink of collapsing. You are one of us and one of us means you add strength to whatever we need to face. That and it worries me of how you are doing so far.❞ Words coming out softly, but this is the only thing Alogaia will speak of, not wanting to push a boundary or two. Not that she is asking the other woman to open up and be vulnerable at all. Just ensuring that she is being taken care of.

Alogaia allowed her gaze to fall onto the movement before her. She's not much of an archer, though she has a few practices here and there. Decent enough to get by. So, it made her admire archers - rather, rangers - more for how they work during combat. How they can slip an arrow out just as quickly as a spell can be cast.

❝I hold no offense you have your own types of arrows that you, yourself, need to do. It's how I am with restoring books and documents if and when they are damaged. A process we don't trust with anyone else. So, no worries.❞ She settled herself down, careful to keep a distance but also to say she's going to keep Dronia company. If the other wanted her company for the time being. A simple gesture will send the traveling librarian off to be elsewhere. Either bothering another person in camp or attending to a book she recently found. ❝Have you always made your own arrows? What made them so special? If you don't mind me asking at all.❞

[thcdoomed]

Alogaia sounded like her father. If you don't get a full night's rest, you will be prone to mistakes, and mistakes get you killed. She was the only Fairbourne child, now the last of a highly respected family in certain circles. A founding family of Winter Dale and renowned hunters. She swallowed the words she wanted to say, choosing to be polite when curtness wanted to respond. "I will sleep at the change of watch."

Not that watch mattered, with Withers and the animals there, there were plenty of early warnings for danger, but she was old-fashioned in that sense. Fingers, nicked with cuts and calloused from years of hard work secured another bone arrowhead to the shaft, securing the twine tightly. Her actions, usually so practiced were more irritated, the fatigue slipping into her bones. Better than the nightmares, better than being haunted by the dead she called neighbor, and the face of her fiance forever twisted in an agonizing scream.

"I have to fletch my own arrows. I'm sorry, I don't trust anyone else with this process." She inhaled deeply, eyes closing for a moment. "It shouldn't take too much longer."

{Continuing from (x) for: @thcdoomed}

❖

❝Clearly there is much to do but you'll do no good if you are exhausted. Exhaustion will lead to mistakes and mistakes will lead you to messing up and driving you to the ground to do better. Even if you rest for a few hours, it's better than nothing getting anything.❞

Words rolled off of Alogaia's tongue with a gentleness to it. As if she's afraid to overstep her boundary, though she's far from worrying about that. Concern filled in the dark eyes of hers, which shifted onto the other, watching and watching. The urge to say a threat of dragging this woman to sleep hung at the back of her mind, though she pushed it back, knowing it's not her to do so.

❝If you want, I can either watch over you or do some of these things you are required to do to speed up the process. Hate to see you look like you are about to fall over.❞