Her interest in how her aunt handled herself almost outgrew the pain in her forearm. Almost. However, the twinge of each throb was enough to keep her grounded. Talyssa couldn’t help but shift her weight in anticipation as she observed the older woman unload some of her chosen supplies on the opposite end of the cot where she lay. Seemingly satisfied with her roll of bandages and two little jars, she became immediately aware of Gwyn’s shift of eyesight in order to examine the bite wound a bit more thoroughly- or so she presumed. The girl offered the injury forward in an attempt to give the best view possible. However, her own attention remained fixed on Gwynevere’s face- searching for any indication of what the woman might have been thinking at that particular moment. Though, if the healer had any concerns, she didn’t telegraph any of them.
When Gwyn finally pulled back to meet her accidental stare, she offered a brief sheepish grin until the woman’s words registered. Then her expression shifted to something more genuinely relieved. Talyssa answered with a quick nod as she subconsciously fidgeted in place while awaiting whatever treatment lay in store. As the healer went to pull a dosage of some pre-concocted tonic with a wooden spoon, and offered it forward for her to eat, she couldn’t help but hesitate. She listened carefully as the ingredients were presented to her- nothing that sounded bad. And the mixture didn’t smell terrible either … still, her normal enthusiasm was absent as she leaned forward to swallow what was offered to her. The honey did a lot to carry the flavor.“That wasn’t so bad.” She admitted softly, more to herself than to aunt Gwyn.
Satisfied that the painkillers had been successfully administered, it seemed that they were ready to move on to the second phase … whatever that entailed. She didn’t ask for an explanation, trusting the healer to give details when they were important. Besides, she wasn’t given much of an opportunity to make a prediction, as she was asked where exactly the injury came from. “I was defending myself from a coyote.” Obviously not well, judging by the state of her forearm. But then she supposed she was alive to tell the tale at the end of the day. That had to stand for something.
Professor
Fleet-footed
