zzz
@Simon
A woman wearing a white robed lined with blue threads is at the door.
“Sorry for being late. If I’m not wrong… Kaito?”
Do you want to build a snowman
“Ah, call me Coin Priest. A man named Alvine - Well I assumed he’s a man from voice, I can’t really see him with all the glitters around him - he tells me my service might be in need here?”
“A healer?” Kaito perks up.
“Right this way.” He puts the blade back into the sheathe (ceasing training) and anxiously leads the way to Arthas.
That timid guy really is pure… I thank you… Kai thinks.
Arthas is lying on his bed, unconscious after the attack on him.
"So how many are hurt? What happened? You a mercenary group or something? " she asks curiously.
“Just travellers. We were attacked when we were going to Light’s Shire.”
“We had to detour to come here.”
“And only 1 is hurt.” Points to the injured Arthas.
“He was attacked by an intruder in this residence. I chased him out however.”
(Internal bleeding in the stomach and spleen. Cancelling a spell midway effects. And may have been attacked by an EdgeShadow in the mind as well.)
(Is it time for Skyla’s church visit?)
“More of a young kid with personality issues… Why?” Kaito replies, his eyes glazing over. “He tried to grab me with his right hand as well, I got groggy… My wine there helped me a little,” He points to the wine gourd, of a fine wine
“Because a thief is likely to use a blade. Internal wound is harder to heal, you know? And forget it if there’s some mental damage. I don’t dare to touch it yet.”
“Huh… any remedies that can help his current condition?” He asks, clearly worried now.
“Sleep and rest. That’s it. I can help to revitalise the body and heals internal damage, but it will still take time.”
She sighs.
“Seriously. Can’t he just lose a limb or something?” The priest sits next to Arthas and takes a coin out of her sleeve.
“Repairing limbs? Is that even possible?” Kaito wonders.
“I’ll leave him to you then.” Kaito bows, and goes to the courtyard.
Skyla turned around in his bed. He wasn’t able to sleep… he looked at the ceiling, mindlessly fiddling with his ears. “What is wrong with me?” He looked at the clock. He had to wait for a few hours…