<div class="floatleft">(https://i.pinimg.com/564x/c4/a2/eb/c4a2eb3622a5fd5f4149b8e094a22fa3.jpg)</div><strong>Name: </strong>Danae Vine-Lott (https://www.dndbeyond.com/characters/13428552/mqOlTT)<br/><strong>Location: </strong>Island docks<br/><strong>Wearing: </strong>White cotton jodhpurs, loose and ragged grey muslin riding shirt with collar open and sleeves rolled up, barefoot<br/><strong>Content: </strong>Undergoing medical treatment<br/><strong>Tagging: </strong>Corinne, Medb, Open<br/><br/>There was a word Danae wished to form, a sense of gratitude for the fortuitous encounter with the cowled healer in this distant, unforgiving place.  Instead, she breathed only a sigh of relief, knowing full well that what ill fate had taken her far from familiar shores would doubtless have further unwelcome surprises in store for her.<br/><br/>She sat up, propped up on a crate, and allowed Medb to inspect her wounds.  Ah, yes the pain - sanctified pain, her trial by fire.  It had been so long since she had experienced the decadent fusion of agony and ecstasy that she had felt under Baykur's lash, and even before Corinne's solicitous gaze she could not help but betray her ambivalence.<br/><br/>"You must forgive the condition in which you have found me, good Madame," she spoke to Medb with a warm smile, "our journey here has been little more than a succession of calamities.  I would see the end of it, not just for myself, but for the other castaways."  She shivered, and she knew that she was still weak for she rarely felt the cold, "On the one part we have the sea that disgorged us here, and on the other this Asylum..." she enunciated the word carefully, fearful of its implications.  What she had seen in the hold she would not soon forget.<br/><br/>"If you are to treat me, Madame, I ask only that you be quick.  I would not tarry too long here out in the open."  In the corner of her vision she spied the fur-clad woman. A fey girl - such a curious thing to see an elf.  In Mordent her kind were the stuff of song and myth.  All knew a friend of a cousin who had claimed to see one, though firsthand glimpses were always elusive.  Now she beheld one in the flesh, and she felt it almost comforting.  Those were the good tales one told a child to balance the stories grown women played out only in their nightmares.   "Brave new world that has such people in it," she muttered, and scrutinised the silver-haired forest strider with a soldier's eye.<br/>