Starter For @damn-space-wizards !
“Kriff this, would you look at that? Another man in armor.” Ziv leaned with her shoulder by the doorframe and the short Tynnan looked not exactly impressed by the mercenarys armor and blaster. Thick streaks of afternoon sunlight cut like broiling blades from the small, round windows into the heavy air that hung in the backroom. Past the small room the noises of a busy starhangar rushed muffled past them like the buzzing of a busy beehive full of the beeping of working droids, the shouts and voices of hangarworkers and the noises of starship engines booming. It was quiet enough for the Tynnans voice to be heard comfortably, yet it was always there in the background, barely hearable, but always there. Stark red eyes, in the bright light of the sun almost glowing like embers, looked very much contemptuously up and down on Zalo. With a annoyed sigh she put down her back on the ground, causing a small cloud of dust rise from the dirty tiled floor of the room in the golden afternoonlight. The young womans whiskers twitched when she took a deep sniff in the air- her eyesight was horrible as was the eyesight of every Tynnan not only those afflicted by albinism, but her sense of smell was compensating for his and it was easy for her to make out a injury and sickness by the scent surrounding a person. There was the sour smell of adrenaline oozing of the man mixed with something charred, something hot, something burned- the smell of blasterwounds. Automatically she started to take out a few plastoid bags out of her rucksack- Voss-bark as a antiseptic bandage, toolathistle-oinment to suck out the heat of the burn from the flesh beneath, vinegearwater for cleaning, a oinment of spiderpoison that would work mildly numbing and perfectly as a painkiller. Her small paws worked nimbly and without any hestiation as she continued to talk, yet it was her tail that swiftly moved restlessly that betrayed the tension of a Healer who was compassionately worried for a patients wellbeeing despite her calm and harsh habitus: “Sorry to break it down to you, cub, but having a tin-opener at paw does not belong to a Healers attire.” “So either you take that off yourself so I can treat to your injuries, or I will have to rip that off with my claws and- “, there was a amused smile sneaking on the Tynnans adorable fluffy face that showed her razorsharp teeth in all their not so friendly glory although it looked more grim than truely happy: “- usually I do that only with men I had known at least for an hour and who had brought me a drink. Sorry to break it down to you, but You are still fifty minutes and a drink away from that, cub.”
