[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

hi

[eolasemah]

The voice is unfamiliar, and Sina angles her head towards the flap of the tent with a small frown.
"Nothing I can't handle," she bluffs, her voice small and sweet despite her attempt at confidence.

[levered]

Clarke angles a look at her that says, anachronistically, oh, honey. She also takes that as invitation enough to come all the way inside and sit down next to the cot. "What does that mean?" How strict are they? How far does their tolerance stretch? She's asking for a friend.

As if in payment for an answer—or as if offering something nice to a bedridden girl, either way—she puts the bag in her hand on the edge of the bed, near Sina's hip, to be taken whenever she wants it.

[eolasemah]

Sina watches Clarke enter with a degree of puzzlement, since she doesn't know the girl, but it looks like the visit was deliberate. Still, she's not one to turn down company. She looks curiously at the bag Clarke sets on the cot, but doesn't touch it yet.
"A lot of questions," she honestly answers, "...a bit of shouting. But as far as I know, these are the only people who can help me." It goes without saying: so I'm not going anywhere.

cries blood if you want to leave this and do something more current we can

[levered]

"They seem like the only ones who can help a lot of people," Clarke agrees. She's wearing gloves. Beneath them there's evidence of the war, which she hasn't been able to set aside as over. Only paused. When the sky is healed, someone will still need to decide whether she and her friends are dragged back to a Circle. But—"Your situation does look especially dire."

Glowy chest. Weird, by the old standard. Slightly less weird now. Only slightly.

NO ITS FINE

[eolasemah]

"Thanks," Sina says, a bit wryly-- oh really, she hadn't noticed. Her eyes flit to the bag again, and she gestures to it. "What's this?"
Realizing that's a bit impolite of her, she asks, "have we met?"

[levered]

"No."

Speaking of impolite.

"I'm Clarke," she says, "and those are nuts." She almost smiles—there's a sign of life in one corner of her mouth—and looks back out of the tent to give Sina a break from being stared at. She probably deserves an explanation, too, so she gets one: "I'm just wondering how they handle this. It says something about them."

[eolasemah]

"Oh."

Oh to both, really, but mostly to the nuts. "...thank you." She reaches for them and tugs the bag open, smiling at what she sees. Ahh, the good kind.

"Well... I've felt fairly safe, if that's what you mean. I haven't been bothered much." She purses her lips, glancing towards the tent flap. "...there have been... a few exceptions, but they were dealt with by others." And then there's the Seeker, but she'd prefer not to speak openly about that.