doctor, doctor

Starling was hurting, it was an odd feeling. While he had play fought with his siblings as a child (as all children tend to do) he never really bleed from that. But this, this was real fighting, something that Starling very rarely ever had any desire even doing. He had only tried the spar training because he wanted so see if he could do it, just like his big brother Lark. He wanted to prove that he could be strong, that he wasn't just a medicine pusher. But he realized now that this was his skill, his special calling, especially after the brightness he felt when Bass told him to heal both Tinaro and himself. He had felt excitement wash over him, something he had never felt during the whole fight training. He looked happily forward as they walked away from the training, limping slightly on his foreleg. It hurt enough to distrub his gait, but not enough to fully worry him. Tinaro spoke then, and he quickly lifted bright sky blue eyes up to the boy before nodding. "I-it suites me.." He said with a gentle smile, moving towards his store. He hadn't thought to bring any herbs to the training, but they held the class only a small distance from where he had dug out a bigger store just recently, so it didn't take long. He judged the distance, the wounds Tinaro held, and the air quality. Unless the other boy decided to flop over and roll in the mud, the risk for infection was nearly non existant. This would be a simple thing, but still, his father's faith in him made this all the more important. He quickly went through his invetory in his head, going through what should be bad by now and what he could still use. His mind was so busy he almost missed Tinaro's next words, and with a grin he nodded. "R-real close..a-actually." He stuttered but his smile never faded. It didn't take them long to arrive, and Starling instantly ducked in to collected his desired plants. It was a small dug out in the dirt, hidden by bushes and completely underground, damp enough to keep the plants fresh but not enough to make them sodden. Still, he had a terrible time with making them last longer. "A-are you w-wanting to be a f-fight-ter?" He asked, his voice muffled from the dirt as he shuffled about, wanting to learn more about this boy he had been too preoccupied to meet.

"Burn Baby Burn" | "Italian"