Post by Roan on May 17, 2013 3:39:44 GMT -5
Teagan's silence was not reassuring to the young woman. If the witch really wanted them gone then she could do something to help them off of the school's property. Roan was hoping that her silence wasn't a sign that they were going to run into trouble with the school's administrators. The last thing she wanted was to face anyone from her alma mater. However she was still lacking the state of mind to process everyone's actions and come up with a reasonable conclusion or plan of action. Every single thought felt like it was struggling through syrup to rise to her brain. Being a veteran of having her ass kicked on a regular basis, Roan knew that it was from the massive amounts of blood loss from that damned sword.
It was also to blame for why she wasn't able to react fast enough when Ilmar shoved her with only one finger. Since she was barely standing as it was that was all it took to send Roan reeling back to the ground. The world spun and rushed around her and she cried out in surprise and discomfort from the falling feeling. At the last moment she pulled her hands up to avoid falling on her wrists and instead felt a sharp jolt flash through her backside and back. "What the hell?" The little breath she had was knocked out of her and so he probably didn't hear her indignation. There was a soft plunk of the potion bottle and Ilmar was speaking in that cheerful tone again.
Oh, and when you can stand and not get wibble legs.
What in Merlin's name were wibble legs?
With her shaking and bandaged hand Roan grabbed the potion in her lap. She was too exhausted to be extremely paranoid, but did gingerly try and smell the contents. The coppery tang of blood seemed permanently affixed to her nostrils but she was able to pick up a few of the potion ingredients. It was enough to know the potion was familiar and hopefully benign. Carefully the woman took a few sips of the liquid, and instantly her stomach revolted from the sheer shock gripping her body.
Keeping one hand over her mouth Roan concentrated on keeping the potion down. Warmth spread back through her veins, a strong heat that didn't come from a fever. As soon as she thought she could the lycan drank a bit more and felt the trembling in her body begin to taper off. Every sip she could keep down cleared her head a little more and made her feel more solid.
As soon as she felt capable, Roan began to stand up very carefully. Ilmar was trying to introduce himself to Teagan which was not what they needed to be doing right now. The witch was more concerned with the danger to the school and they needed to get going if they were going to help Anil. The potion in her hand had restored some of the damage done by the day's events which fueled Roan's notion that she had to help her rescuer. She was desperately ignoring all physical and emotional exhaustion, the blood which was soaked into her scarred skin and smeared on most of her body, and how all of this severely limited her. All that mattered was setting things right.
"We need to go. I'm not...wibbly. Please, I can't let Anil suffer for my stupidity." Roan begged Ilmar quietly. Guilt was overpowering all of Roan's other emotions and exhaustion. It clawed at her chest and left a pit in her stomach. The longer they dawdled on introductions and healing, the worse off their chances of rescue were.
It was also to blame for why she wasn't able to react fast enough when Ilmar shoved her with only one finger. Since she was barely standing as it was that was all it took to send Roan reeling back to the ground. The world spun and rushed around her and she cried out in surprise and discomfort from the falling feeling. At the last moment she pulled her hands up to avoid falling on her wrists and instead felt a sharp jolt flash through her backside and back. "What the hell?" The little breath she had was knocked out of her and so he probably didn't hear her indignation. There was a soft plunk of the potion bottle and Ilmar was speaking in that cheerful tone again.
Oh, and when you can stand and not get wibble legs.
What in Merlin's name were wibble legs?
With her shaking and bandaged hand Roan grabbed the potion in her lap. She was too exhausted to be extremely paranoid, but did gingerly try and smell the contents. The coppery tang of blood seemed permanently affixed to her nostrils but she was able to pick up a few of the potion ingredients. It was enough to know the potion was familiar and hopefully benign. Carefully the woman took a few sips of the liquid, and instantly her stomach revolted from the sheer shock gripping her body.
Keeping one hand over her mouth Roan concentrated on keeping the potion down. Warmth spread back through her veins, a strong heat that didn't come from a fever. As soon as she thought she could the lycan drank a bit more and felt the trembling in her body begin to taper off. Every sip she could keep down cleared her head a little more and made her feel more solid.
As soon as she felt capable, Roan began to stand up very carefully. Ilmar was trying to introduce himself to Teagan which was not what they needed to be doing right now. The witch was more concerned with the danger to the school and they needed to get going if they were going to help Anil. The potion in her hand had restored some of the damage done by the day's events which fueled Roan's notion that she had to help her rescuer. She was desperately ignoring all physical and emotional exhaustion, the blood which was soaked into her scarred skin and smeared on most of her body, and how all of this severely limited her. All that mattered was setting things right.
"We need to go. I'm not...wibbly. Please, I can't let Anil suffer for my stupidity." Roan begged Ilmar quietly. Guilt was overpowering all of Roan's other emotions and exhaustion. It clawed at her chest and left a pit in her stomach. The longer they dawdled on introductions and healing, the worse off their chances of rescue were.