Micah winced as he was helped to his feet, since he needed the room to stretch the broken wing. He was in too much pain to project his thoughts. His hands flapped through the signs. ::hold my wing when I pop it.:: he warned as he took a step away from her, getting as much room as he could get. Gripping her forearms, he inhaled deeply and snapped both winds open with an audible snap and grind of bones. In that instant, he pooled his power into his injury, flash-healing the break. A loud, gutteral cry sounded through the ship as he fell to the floor, blacked out from pain and power-use.<br/><br/>Ivan, on the other hand, had found Molly, and was kneeling behind her, holding her hair out of the way as she lost the contents of her stomach. You know, darling. you vill have to get used to this. They fight often, but never to hurt each other seriously. They vish to protect each other, and they train often so they are prepared. I'm sorry you have to deal with it this way. the effeminate Russian male said, rubbing her back gently with his free hand.