11-02-2018, 11:28 PM
She needs to gather her strength. She is a healer, after all. If she wanders around like this, sick as can be, it won’t be conducive to what she wants to do. She wants to build a sanctuary for them to go to, for the sick horses to heal and recover and regain their strength. In spite of the trauma that Cress has endured—the trauma that no matter how much time passes, she will never truly get passed—she wants to help others. She wonders if her father, wherever he is, is proud of her. She knows that her mother wouldn’t be proud; she had better, stronger children who didn’t want to build others up but instead tear them down.
She hardly remembers her mother, aside from the bitterness that resided in that mare’s heart.
The child asks her a question, jolting her back to reality and the bodies rushing all around them, scrambling to find a safe place. “Depending on what you need, I can absolutely help you,” she reassures her, resisting the urge to draw the girl into the safety of her golden wings. It’s too dangerous; if the plague is already spreading, just sharing breaths with young Xero may be enough to infect her. She doesn’t know if it’s transmitted through touch, as well.
It is clear the girl wants comfort, though, and Cress’s heart breaks a little when her dash to the golden mare’s side is cut short. “I’ll be alright,” she tells Xero, attempting a small smile that doesn’t quite hide the pain she’s feeling.
Xero asks her if she knows of any safe places, and Cress’s smile becomes genuine. “As a matter of fact, I do know a few safe places,” she says. “Do you know how to swim? I found an island that is completely secure—the sickness cannot spread there. I plan to make a home there, and bring sick horses there to help them recover. Would you like to come there with me?”
She hardly remembers her mother, aside from the bitterness that resided in that mare’s heart.
The child asks her a question, jolting her back to reality and the bodies rushing all around them, scrambling to find a safe place. “Depending on what you need, I can absolutely help you,” she reassures her, resisting the urge to draw the girl into the safety of her golden wings. It’s too dangerous; if the plague is already spreading, just sharing breaths with young Xero may be enough to infect her. She doesn’t know if it’s transmitted through touch, as well.
It is clear the girl wants comfort, though, and Cress’s heart breaks a little when her dash to the golden mare’s side is cut short. “I’ll be alright,” she tells Xero, attempting a small smile that doesn’t quite hide the pain she’s feeling.
Xero asks her if she knows of any safe places, and Cress’s smile becomes genuine. “As a matter of fact, I do know a few safe places,” she says. “Do you know how to swim? I found an island that is completely secure—the sickness cannot spread there. I plan to make a home there, and bring sick horses there to help them recover. Would you like to come there with me?”
infected.