here we are in the heart of the darkness; Dovev, open

[Cress]

all that we have amassed sits before us, shattered into ash

Settling into life in the resort has been easy enough, though the land is already bustling with other horses in a way that is a little discerning to Cress. Will they all respect Tiphon’s claim on this land, and allow for the resort to become a sanctuary for the infected? Or will they be fearful and attempt to cast out the ill? Cress is still sick herself, though Tiphon had healed the worst of her maladies. The cough is still there, having faded but still under the surface, marking her as one of the plagued. There is no hiding that she is ill, and she does not want to fear for her life in a place that she has only just started calling home.

The forests that line the beaches of the resort are not very thick, and Cress has to do a double take when two horses and a shadow appear. The one horse, a mare, appears very ill and very pregnant, and Cress rushes forward even as the shadow-horse fades away. Have they heard that there are healers here? Well... her and Tiphon, at least. She has heard that Leliana has left and the thought leaves a slightly bitter taste in her mouth—that lover of hers doesn’t seem very mentally sound, and Cress is loath to lose a friend.

She is still here, though, and she can help.

The woman’s breath rattles and there is blood spattering the sandy dirt in front of her. She looks to the armored stallion next to her as he yells desperately for her not to die, then hurries forward, a golden wing brushing against his shoulder. “Breathe,” she chastises him, giving him a piercing look. Talking of dying—either of them—will do nothing to calm the sick woman, even if she is so sick that she cannot hear his words. “No one is dying here. This is a sanctuary.”

Cress reaches for her powers and lets her healing flow into Heartfire, trying to soothe the worst of her symptoms. The cough should subside, at least, and her fever will break, but Cress knows that she cannot cure the illness completely. She doesn’t know anyone who can.

As she works, she looks again to the man who is so worried about his woman that he is breaking. “I am doing my best to ease her symptoms,” she explains, sighing as her own strength begins to flee her, “but I cannot cure the plague entirely. Rest assured she will be safe here, as will you. Please, try to relax. She is not going to die.”

cress

oxytocin x kindling

@Dovev @Heartfire