run from me

*Iolaire* · 12-01-2019, 06:09 PM

Green and gold eyes looked the man over. He didn't seem injured, but he was also sitting and she wasn't able to make a proper judgement. She didn't know who he was, only that he looked familiar. Had she known who he was, her disposition wouldn't have changed much. Titles were naught but words. Actions bred respect.

The man patted the ground beside him, offering Iolaire a seat. Rather than place herself beside a wolf that she didn't know, the woman's small haunches folded where she stood. She sat across from him, a healthy distance away, but close enough that they could converse comfortably. Being so small, one had to be wary of strange wolves, lest she end up with another face full of bite marks.

The brute introduced himself and Iolaire recognized the name. Deathbelle had mentioned him, but that was all she had done. Aside from that single conversation, she'd heard nothing of the man. Still, she accepted his name with a nod. He'd given his title and so she would give her own. "Iolaire Akeldama: Ambassador of the Ashen Armada." She claimed no relation to the alpha in her naming of titles because she didn't need to. This title was her own. Hannibal went on to speak of Banshee and their conversation together. The small woman nodded again. "Banshee was correct. I am indeed a healer, among other things."

An injury was offered up for her inspection and Iolaire rose, moving forward. First she smelled the wound for any signs of rot. There were none which was a good sign. "I need to touch it to make sure that it's healing properly." If it wasn't, the leg would need to be broken again and set in the proper place. As she waited for him to give permission to prod the injury, the minuscule fae nosed into her pack, pulling out a bit of white willow bark for the pain as well as a few herbs that would address inflammation. She placed them before the pink-hued man and waited.

Speech

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