The Tranquil - 1/3

“You know,” sighed Mari, almost dreamily, “After that run in with the Brutes I'm almost glad to be surrounded by the ailing.” 

Otho nodded sagely as he tenderly licked the open wound on his foreleg. “This rest is much needed.”

Cailu smiled, a soft yet almost smug expression, “My order was of course well thought out - visiting the Tranquil was almost a guarantee after a run in with the Brutes.”

Grizz scoffed, pacing between the group, “I only wish I had the option to paint the walls with Zarod’s likeness.” She huffed, still riled up from the group's adrenaline filled detour.

Mari let her gaze wander as Cailu explained to Grizz how long in no uncertain terms was she to kill the leader of the Brutes, and how it was in fact extremely unconducive to their goal of befriending the Haedians. 

The domain of the Tranquil was exactly that, a peaceful grove sequestered away from the main thoroughfares of the caverns. Plush green moss crawled up the walls, reaching towards the ceiling. Trailing ferns and vines found themselves growing from tiny cracks that would normally be unable to support life. A babbling brook lazed its way through the centre of the clearing, where young Haedians lapped at its fresh waters and bathed their weary muscles.

Mari blinked up at the ceiling - expecting to see the morning sun - but was instead greeted by cool blue crystals bathing the room in a dawn-like light. 

For a moment she basked in the soft light, listening to Grizz and Cailu argue their points, one more heated than the other. 

“Come Sapling,” Mari said as she rose, stretching her legs in an almost cat-like stance. “We shall put ourselves to use.” She padded over to a small group of Haedians with Otho limping at her heels.

She bowed her head in greeting, the Haedian she approached mirroring her actions. “Greetings winged one, I am Margrave of the surface dwellers, you may call me Mari.” She nudged her nose in the direction of the other Haedians laid about the cavern floor, “Can we provide assistance to your ailing?”

The Haedian smiled, “Greetings Mari. I am Systra, any assistance is greatly accepted.” She gestured to her wards, a group of seven groaning Haedians curled up on the ground, each with a variety of ailments. “My kin are sick, plagued by painful lesions and itchy scales. Don't worry,” she added quickly as she saw Otho’s expression of concern, “They're not infectious - their wounds are crusted and old, but still need cleaning.”

Otho relaxed visibly as Mari nodded, “We can help to soothe their sores.”

Systra smiled and from the folds of her gown plucked a small container, she paused - noting the Vayrons lack of opposable thumbs - and unscrewed the top. “Here, this tincture will both soothe and heal. It stings however, so be wary of flying claws.”

She placed the pot on a patch of blankets, as central as she could achieve in relation to the sick Haedians. Mari needed no further prompting as she dipped her paw in the ointment, coating her pads with the soft jelly. With an awkward three-legged hop she made her way over to the smallest Haedian, a child who whimpered away, tucked underneath his mother's wing.

She whispered a gentle greeting, a promise and a smile. Young as it was this child was almost the same size as her, which assuredly helped him feel more at ease. With gentle, precise movements she gently coated the wound in the ointment. The child tensed as the gel touched open wounds, nuzzling into his mother's side. She gently returned her child's touch, a wordless reassurance.

She smiled as the child relaxed, allowing her gaze to wander over to her companions. Cailu was introducing Grizz to another of the Haedian nurses; which Mari could only help but smile at as he awkwardly took the puller’s paw in greeting, nearly unbalancing her despite only moving her in what was comparatively a tiny motion for him.

Otho was laid down with two of the Haedians in the original group, opting for a show and tell approach as he dabbed his own wound with the ointment. The Haedians tentatively copied his actions, wincing in unison. She watched as he showed them how to expertly tie a bandage without using their hands, chuckling as they attempted to clumsily copy his actions.

“Um, thank you wingless one.” Mari turned back to the child she was aiding, his small angular face peering up at her from tucked paws, “It hurts… but now it feels a lot better.” He cocked his head slightly, almost to gain a better view of his new nurse, “Can you… tell me a story?” He received a sharp elbow in the side from his mother, punctuated with a glare which soon turned apologetic.

Mari smiled, “It's no worries, I am always happy to tell a story.” She laid down, tucking her paws under her body, “Once upon a time…”