Island of misfit toys

Siren sighed softly as she looked up at the wounds and took note of her needed supplies as she shifted her attention from flesh to the storage on the wall that the two of them had built. Dalila thought herself a servant or slave, and while she was, to Siren she was so much more than that. She was her partner, they gathered and prepared herbs together, created tinctures and creams, shared a bed at night. There wasn’t anyone else that Siren was closer to and seeing the blood on her coat had summoned a protective spirit within that she never predicted she would feel.

On that thought Dalila spoke the woman’s name and Siren’s hackles raised and she froze as she reached for a bit of moss to begin cleaning Dalila’s wounds. She regained her focus and wetted the still green moss in a vat of water before cleaning the woman’s shoulder. She didn’t say anything and her explanation continued, the attack came without provocation. Siren continued to wipe away the blood from around the wound as Dalila eventually went on softly, but cut herself off short with a snap of her jaw. The only secret Dalila would keep from her was something to do with Chimera. She wasn’t (fully) blind, the tiny princess had noticed something off with the woman she shared every day with after her bath. Which had taken forever.

”What happened?” Siren whispered, her focus obviously on the supplies on the floor beside her as she readied the poultice and bandage to finish dressing the wound. Her words were no command, but a gentle question that Dalila could tell her if she wished, or keep to herself if that was what would keep her most comfortable.