<div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote"><a href="https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=188762.msg9212840#msg9212840">Quote from: ladyelizabeth on 18-11-2013, 23:03:29</a></div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">She helped him to the couch and then looked down at him closely.  He was definitely beat all the hell and she knew it was going to take many of her specialized skills to heal him.  How he would feel about that, she was very unsure.  She watched as he removed his shirt and worked on not being impressed and horrified at the same time.  He had some spectacular drool-worthy muscles.  However, there were bright livid bruises already forming which were a terrible sign to her as a healer.  She wondered idly just how long and how much he had fought for his life.  She saw the scars as he removed his jeans and she cleared her throat turning away.  <br/><br/>She went to the next room where she could hear him talking about what hurt.  She could imagine everything hurt probably from his hair to his toenails.  She grabbed a few of her needles as well as a bottle of alcohol and gauze to clean up some of the worst.  She tilted her head as she placed everything on the tray and spoke from the other room.  "I do not doubt that everything hurts.  You look like you went through a battle of your life.  Care to tell me who...or what...they were?"<br/><br/>She needed to know the danger coming as much as she needed to heal him.  Her own fear didn't change that fact.  She moved back into the room and saw him laying back on the couch.  She sat down on the table next to him still not sharing her name until she was sure she was safe enough to do so.  She held up some medicine to place it in the needle. "I'm guessing you don't want to be knocked out for stitches?"<br/></blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div>The man who had called himself Trayan started sighing, then cut it short. Breathing, it seemed, was painful.<br/>Speaking probably hurt, too, but as he locked his green-brown eyes into hers, he seemed not to feel it.<br/>"Go ahead with what you must do. I'm already in pain, and if they attack, I'd rather be able to move. Not that I might do much - you're quite certainly the better fighter right now - but I find the idea of being slain in my sleep to be distasteful!"<br/>He moved to make himself more comfortable.<br/>"And about those things, I've got to admit you might know as much as me. These seemed like malevolent shades, but they weren't. If they were, my knife would cut them down. It has done so before."<br/>He nodded, probably more to himself, seeming like a man that's cataloguing something in his head.<br/>"And it didn't. For some reason, only the intent expressed through a punch, a kick or... I'm not sure about anything else, really... was able to hurt them. Which makes no sense - a knife is supposed to focus the intent that harms shades - but it didn't, and punching bought me time after they disarmed me."<br/>He laughed shortly, then stopped, clutching his ribs. His gaze shortly grew unfocused, probably confirming the likelihood of commotio. Being disarmed has probably saved his life - if not, why would he start punching?<br/>"In short, I'm afraid you know about as much as me, and probably more. But if you can conclude something... well, I'd be even more in your debt if you chose to share it!"