The Green Dragon Inn - Part 4

[Elora]

Vanwe watched Silvanis ride into the morning, and raised her hand in farewell. She gave him a smile and had nodded at his request to speak with her again, for she wished also to speak with him. There was much yet undone and just maybe she could be of assistance to another instead of a burr in their sides.

Vanwe watched the morning unfold a little more, still on the hilltop. She bent, after a time, to collect her pouch and tied it securely to her belt. Then she took to the trees and made for the stream she had found to run cool water over her face. She walked swiftly on light feet through the morning light, and though she checked, Kaldir did not reveal himself to her in the shadowed trees.

She did not have Watcher as a friend in the daylight, and so she was wary. Yet, she was also guilty at having been absent from the stables for so long. She could not avoid them forever if she was to keep the only thing between shelter and desitute homelessness. Compared to the rough hut that had passed for a home, the stable was luxuriant.

Vanwe was soon on her way back towards the inn, haste causing her to run through the trees, hair streaming behind her. Ignoring the rumble of her stomach, hunger was no new thing for her, she made straight for the stables. She slowed, caution driving her to scan the structure for the other Ranger. Yet, as she walked she heard a scream from within, and Vanwe was running forward once again.

She found Lespheria lying on the stable floor, a horse in great distress near by. It's eyes rolled at her, and it shook it's head in a wild whinny, nostrils flaring. Vanwe, cautious of the horse, rose a hand towards it. Murmuring soothing words in a sweet and low voice, she sidled towards Lespheria. The other woman lay motionless on the ground.

Vanwe saw no dagger nor wound, yet a hand was outstretched past her head as if she sought aid. Baffled, Vanwe knelt by Lespheria and examined what she could see with greater attention. No sign of injury of wound could be seen.

"Lespheria! Lespheria, it is me, Vanwe," she said to the woman. When no response came, Vanwe galvanised into action. She placed a hand on Lespheria's shoulder and extended her senses. Noone was nearby to see her, and so Vanwe worked without consideration for masking her activities.

Her eyes closed as she explored Lespheria's stricken state. Finding no injury to spine or head, Vanwe gently rolled Lespheria to her back, and brushed hair and dust back from the Elf's face. Her eyes were closed, and her face pale. Bewildered, Vanwe bent slightly towards Lespheria and again extended her senses in an attempt to heal whatever ailed her.

Naturally skilled as she was, Vanwe moved by instinct. A trained healer may hesitate to move so boldly before knowing the nature of the injury or illness to be healed. Vanwe, however, was moved by the impulse to aid as she could as soon as she could. From time to time, Vanwe's lips moved to sound Lespheria's name, as though she called to the other woman. She bent over her on the stable floor, Lesperhia's horse anxious still but somewhat quietened as it sensed what Vanwe was attempting. All were locked in silcence, bar the calling of Lespheria's name, in the pool of morning light that entered through the open stable doors. Vanwe and Lespheria were lost both to the world around them, as Vanwe struggled to find and heal the wrongness that had wrenched that terrible scream.