Raise the Wreck of Doubt

Aurelia moved with a measured grace in the quiet confines of her healer's den, the air thick with the earthy scent of herbs and the soft glow of muted daylight filtering through the entrance. The shelves, adorned with carefully arranged bundles of freshly harvested plants, held the accumulated wisdom of countless remedies. Her practiced paws brushed over the array of offerings, nails tracing the contours of leaves and petals as she assessed the stock at her disposal. She found her peace among the medicinal nature of plants. Unfortunately, that peace was easily broken.

Aurelia's gaze flickered up from the assortment of herbs she had been inspecting, the tranquil atmosphere of her healer's den disrupted by the tense entry of Aresenn, Absinth's battered form cradled in his grasp. YOU! The snarl that tore through the dimly lit den caught her attention, and as the accusatory words spilled forth, a smirked cracked her features with brightened hilarity at the exchange. “Oh, it’s certainly enough. But you know how the saying goes, misery loves company.” As the unspoken context became obvious, she came to the conclusion that the execution of the presented injuries- the state of Ms. nosy-passerby with her partially flayed hide, and the facial lacerations marring (who she assumed to be) Aresenn’s scowled expression- were committed by Sephiran. Or at least, on his order. If it was considered to be at the fault of her own, it must be in regards to the retribution of the conversation that ended with ‘do a better job at killing yourself, or stop shitting out your mouth.’ Served the bitch right.

Aurelia observed in silence as Aresenn carefully lowered Absinth onto the moss-covered floor, his actions revealing the urgency of his predicament. The atmosphere shifted as fiery brute, fueled by a potent blend of anger and desperation, invaded her personal space. The healer was backed against the wall, trapped between his imposing figure and the hard surface. I’m going to give you one opportunity to fix this. She couldn't help but laugh at his threat. “You can give me as many or as few opportunities as you like. I wouldn’t touch her if my life fucking depended on it.” The irony of her words was certainly not lost on her.  

"Aurelia Veratti"