[open] love, love is a verb

[eolasemah]

WHO: Sina and you!
WHAT: She's awake more often and able to sit up in bed to do things. Visits will be more productive now.
WHEN: Early Drakonis
WHERE: Sina & Nari's tent in the garden
NOTES: Follow-up to this log and the direct result of this one.

The past month has been rough, and Sina has spent most of it in the Fade. Only now is she beginning to look a little more alive, able to converse and laugh without hurting herself, eating more than what Nari can manage to spoon into her mouth while she's conscious, spending her days reading tomes on magic and elvhen history from the library.
She still can't get out of bed without assistance, and the stuffiness of the sick tent is wearing on her. Sina is pale and thin, a shadow of herself, with bags under her eyes and protruding bones. She still smiles easily, however, and is grateful for company and news of outside goings-on.

She will get better. She is getting better. But it will take time.

Comments

[eolasemah]

Rather than speak more, Sina reaches up with her other arm, trying to entice Pel to come in lower for an embrace.

"You're a Keeper no matter what," she says quietly, "and your clan is all the People of the world. Merrill helped me see that."

[mythalenaste]

Pel looks like she's been struck. Punched across the face with a terrible love, kindness and understanding of which she is not worthy. She takes Sina into her arms, careful not to squeeze too tight, but making the hug as encompassing as she can to make up for it.

"With Mythal's blessing, that is what I hope," she whispers. "If I can be judged worthy."

She has never thought she holds intrinsic value, only that she is a pair of hands that must work for the People. But this...this is different. Maybe this is something she herself can offer, as Pel and not just as a warm body.

[eolasemah]

Sina hugs her tightly, or at least as tightly as her weak muscles will allow. Then she rests back again, smiling contentedly. "You will have a lifetime to prove it," she points out, "and the Creators must know that we are mortal. That we may make mistakes along the way, but no mortal being can say they haven't." She smirks mildly. "The Creators themselves were imperfect, after all. We are still loyal to them, and dedicate ourselves to them."