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The Sadness didn’t stand out from any other – sad, goopy eyes, contorted body, vaguely human and vaguely not. This one was Rock type. And tall. It put you in mind of a centaur, kind of. It might have been stronger than the others you had encountered, if you had stopped to think about it, but you didn’t.
When it went after Bonbon, you didn’t think about anything at all.
You’re the fastest. You got in front of them, took the hit for them, obviously you did, but you didn’t have time to guard, only place yourself and–
And now you’re on the ground. You blink. You have to get back in the fight, Bonbon’s still in danger. You blink again. You... have to get back in the fight. Blink. Blink.
Finally, your cold body listens to you, and you roll to your knees. Where’s your dagger? Oh, whoa, Mirabelle is kneeling in front of you, when did she get there? She looks horrified, and sad, and she’s saying... yes, she’s asking if you’re all right.
“I’m okay,” you say, because it’s the truth. That hit was disorienting, but you feel fine.
That apparently wasn’t the right thing to say. Mira’s face shifts in some way you can’t put a word to but it’s not good . She looks... sick? Sharper?
She reaches out to your face, and you flinch violently before she can touch you, squeezing your eyes shut.
“Oh! Sorry, sorry! But Siffrin, I need to take a look at that,” she’s saying. “Can I see?”
Right, she has Healing Craft. You don’t think you need it, but if it’ll ease her nerves, so be it. You relax and open your eyes–
Or. You don’t open your eyes. You’re trying to. Your eyelids seem to have a different plan, though.
“Uh,” you say. You open your mouth to elaborate – wait, actually, you feel weird. Sweaty and cold and distant and... weird.
“Siffrin?”
Mira is talking to you, you had more to say to her, but right now she’s annoying distracting you from the fact that you feel weird . Are you sick? You guess you feel nauseous, now that you’re thinking about it. More than that though, you feel strangely light. Floaty. Are you floating up in the clouds somewhere?
“I’m not floating,” you consider. Your hands and knees feel dirt under you. And that’s telling, isn’t it? That you think of your hands and knees as feeling separately from you. That’s what you’re feeling, that separation. You are disconnected. Somewhere else.
Weird!
A conversation is happening somewhere above you – somewhere below you, rather – and it is entirely irrelevant to you. Why are they sitting here and talking when there’s a Sadness attacking? Did they kill it?
You turn your head to look for the Sadness before remembering that your eyes don’t work. Also, stars , moving your head made that nausea much, much worse.
The conversation seems to end. Then you feel that cool, familiar sensation of Healing Craft. Then your left eye starts to burn.
-
Your head really hurts. You groan, raising your hand to your temple. Stopping when you feel... oh, bandages wrapped around your head. You trace them with your fingers. Feel out where they are and where they aren’t.
Ow. Even the slightest pressure on the bandages over your eye makes your headache bloom.
“Sif? Are you waking up, buddy?” Isa. You don’t really want to open your eye(s?) to look at him, not when you feel like this. You give it your best effort anyway. You open your unbandaged eye, slowly, carefully, let the world come into focus...
No! No, bad idea!!! Your headache triples you want to throw up your eye is itching and screaming your head is bigger than the space between your ears and it hurts!!!
You let out a garbled whine and curl in on yourself. Maybe it’ll fade soon, now that your eyes are firmly shut again.
"Ah, Sif!! Do you need more vodka?" Isabeau is hovering over you. He shouts, “Mira! We need you!”
Yeah, you remember. Odile offered some of her stash as a makeshift painkiller, in that haze of confusion and aching. That was probably how you managed to sleep.
It sounds like a horrible idea now. You're already nauseous. You wave your hand in refusal – neither shaking your head nor opening your mouth sounds fun, so.
The sound of a tent flap opening and Mira’s hurried footsteps. “What, what is it? Siffrin, is he okay?”
You give a thumbs up, and do not uncurl. Burying your face into your pillow is tempting, but you know that it would make everything worse.
“Oh, oh, sweetheart...” Mirabelle comes closer. Kneels next to you, you think. “What changed?”
“They just woke up, I think,” Isabeau says. They’re both obviously worried, and both trying very hard to keep it together. Their voices are tense. You need to reassure them.
“I’m fine,” you mumble. You do not throw up. “Just, just shot myself in the foot when I tried to open my eyes. Eye. Not the... sight -est idea I’ve had, in hindsight .”
Double whammy! The second one was sort of weak, though.
Isa gives you a pity chuckle. “Hey, okay, okay. If it hurts, don’t do it. We’ve got you, okay?”
“Um, I’m going to try to heal you, if, if that’s alright? Just something small!! I don’t want to make it worse again!” Mirabelle is nervous, nervous, you feel bad that she’s the one who’s been put in charge of taking care of you. Make her happy. You give her another thumbs up.
She takes a breath, and your skin cools. Your pounding head eases into a dull throb. You relax.
“Thanks.”
“Don’t open your eyes, Siffrin! Don’t get up! Just rest, okay?” You let her fuss over you. Not like you could stop her, anyway.
“That’s right! Your eyes are a team, y’know. Your injured one will keep trying to do its share if you put the okay one to work,” Isabeau says. “If one needs to take it easy, the other one has to, too.”
Oh. Huh. You guess that makes sense.
Mirabelle makes a noise between a considering hum and an anxious groan. “Is that true? Could we maybe, um, blindfold you, then? Would that help? So you don’t... Open your eye by accident?”
“...Sure?” You don’t really get how you would go about that. But, she’s still fussing, so you still let her.
“Okay. Okay! Let’s see...” You hear rustling. “Is it alright if we touch you? Sorry. I’d like Isabeau to hold your head up just a bit while I tie this.”
Sure. Thumbs up.
You jump when Isabeau touches you, and he pulls away quickly with a “Sorry, I’m sorry!” Ah, that’s what Mira’s talking about, isn’t it? You barely stopped your eyes from flying open.
After a moment, after you relax, he tries again. He slides his hands under your head and lifts gently. Your scalp tingles a little.
“Okay...” Mirabelle says again. Your breath catches when fabric touches your face. With a bit of maneuvering around Isabeau, she secures it around your head. She’s gentle, too. Careful not to irritate your injury.
“Is that too tight?” She asks.
You try to shake your head, but it’s still being propped up by Isa. You hum instead.
This is nice. Being looked after, being cradled. It’s easy to focus on the warmth under your head rather than the pain inside it. You drift.
You’re asleep before he settles you back onto your pillow.