In the sway of the ship, her eyes stay on him, gold-bright in the half-light. In the sway of the ship, before his eyes and in the half moonlight, below the blood that wells on her skin, the wood, the cut that should render her swordman's hands useless on another. A cut like that would cost the dexterity she clearly prided herself on.
It heals itself clean. It heals itself - from fresh scab to scar, then - to nothing at all. An odd ripple of sound as something that should happen in months is done in seconds. It isn't painless, it isn't that kind. Her body sweats the fever of infection in seconds, the ripple of tendons knitting themselves back together makes her gasp harder than getting the injury did in the first place. A cost of pain and healing that are in all things, equal.
Equal, whatever that meant, here and now.
"I am not a mage, nor am I corrupted, before you ask. I am old, Captain Flint, older than you. But as long as I drink, time does not touch me, wounds do not kill me. I can fight harder, longer, faster, than any other man in your service and I offer myself to it, freely if you want it."
no subject
It heals itself clean. It heals itself - from fresh scab to scar, then - to nothing at all. An odd ripple of sound as something that should happen in months is done in seconds. It isn't painless, it isn't that kind. Her body sweats the fever of infection in seconds, the ripple of tendons knitting themselves back together makes her gasp harder than getting the injury did in the first place. A cost of pain and healing that are in all things, equal.
Equal, whatever that meant, here and now.
"I am not a mage, nor am I corrupted, before you ask. I am old, Captain Flint, older than you. But as long as I drink, time does not touch me, wounds do not kill me. I can fight harder, longer, faster, than any other man in your service and I offer myself to it, freely if you want it."