You Say Stubborn, I Say Thorough

At her kind beckoning, Artorias stepped into the room, his nose wrinkling up on reflex as his olfactory sense was hit with the smell of the medicines she was preparing. They didn't smell that bad, but they were definitely earthy smelling. Funny how the boy could stand the stench of blood but plants seemed to turn him off. He strode slowly over to where Lúta was working, peering around her shoulder to watch what she was doing even while she explained what her concoction was intended for. As he neared his first birthday, Art had mostly grown into his full height, matching the healer, though it was clear he still had a little bit to go. Something to help her sleep; maybe he should inquire into getting some of that for himself. Sleep had been a luxury he couldn't get his paws on since his mother's turning.

She asked him how he was holding up and the boy was very careful to not answer her question directly. It didn't matter what he said, the weariness painted on his visage and storms in his usually bright eyes would speak volumes that his words could not. He pursed his lips, but otherwise said nothing. What was he supposed to say anyway? Bad? Terribly? "Have you seen my mother lately?" he asked. His own family had been barred from seeing Resin since her imprisonment, though he was already deciding to disobey that stupid order and go talk to her sometime soon. What were they going to do to stop him? Lock him up? The thought was laughable at best; they saw how much good that was doing for Resin.

"She's actually the reason I came to find you," he continued after a moment, careful not to meet Lúta's eyes while he spoke. He didn't want anyone to see the pain and the broken spirit in them. Like Rudy had said, they were expected to be strong. "I've been trying to find the cure for her illness, but... it's proving harder than I thought... I'm not a healer, and I didn't know someone's brain could get broken like this. I was hoping maybe someone as experienced as you might..." His words drifted off. She might what? Have some miracle cure tucked away that they hadn't tried yet? His desperation was running thin, as were his hopes. "Is... Is there any way to fix my mom...? Will she ever be..." He swallowed hard, mentally bracing himself for the question. "Will she ever get better...?"


"Artorias" | Thoughts | "Corbin"