“i am feeling as though my pectoral muscles are struggling to keep my shattered ribs in place, and their inflammation is making breathing a labour where i am used to it happening in spite of me.”
evidently, winter’s desire not to be looked upon as weak has dissolved under her capacity for brutal honesty. it is different, to hold a wound aside when her company (usually inferior soldiers, who look to her for guidance and strength) seek hope in her own condition. now, winter takes every moment to feel sorry for herself without a hint of regret. any teasing glynda could engage in will not leave this room, of that winter could not be more sure. still, she shakes her head.
“the pain is too dull to justify medication as yet.” she says, raising a hand and instinctively forcing her body to sit up straight as she watches the woman from behind the counter approach, tray in hand. there’s two plates, both littered with bite-size tasters of several different pastries, two ceramic cups billowing with steam and a smaller, glass mug of what looks like discoloured water, tinged green.
“black coffee for you,” the woman says, setting one of the mugs in front of winter, and then placing the tea in front of her too. “get that down you first. it’s menthol, and it’ll help with the breathing thing.” charlie straightens after placing glynda’s drink with a wink, before turning her attention back to winter. and patting her own torso. “trust me, from someone who’s broken more than a few ribs themself over the years.”
winter nods and thanks her, and the woman departs. winter levels her eyes on glynda and lifts her tea to her lips.
“they say faunus ears pick up everything,” she comments, watching charlie’s retreat and grimacing at the taste of the tea. “or is your friend just very observant?”
Glynda sat and listened quietly, nodding slowly as Winter spoke. Although it had been years, she could sympathize with the other's pain. There was a long stretch of time where she was in the ICU of a hospital in Atlas due to serious injuries. Though she was quite thankful that Winter's wounds weren't nearly as bad.
"Well I am prepared should your pain reach that point. I will also make an effort to get you more pillows when we return to base." For the time being, Winter was sleeping in Glynda's quarters. A nurse came every day to check on her and she had constant company in the form of Toffee, a small kitten the two women had rescued a few weeks prior. Glynda's bed was rather comfortable, compared to the beds in the medical wing. But knowing everything still hurt her so much? Well, that just meant more soft things.
As Charlie walked over, the professor turned her attention to her friend, smiling in thanks as she was given her tea. "Since when have you gotten into herbal medicines?" Glynda took her mug of tea off the table, taking a slow sip and humming in response to Winter.
"I informed her you were injured before hand. " She paused, taking yet another sip. "Though I didn't give her many details. It is easy to hear things in this cafe without other patrons and ambient music though, so I wouldn't be surprised if she overheard our conversation."