The medical camp wasn’t much, hastily thrown up and handling it’s limit of injured, but it was much better than nothing she decided. When Lark and the gnome surgeon rushed Kestrel inside one of the tents, Kyara paced outside protectively, but didn’t dare traverse inside. She told herself it was mainly because she didn’t want to get underfoot, which was true...But she’d admit she didn’t really want to see Kestrel’s condition, either. Instead she simply put her faith into the druid’s healing capabilities, which she’d seen firsthand.
Less than an hour later, Lark was still going at it, and Ky was beginning to feel the effects of exhaustion from the battle. Trusting Osprey would watch over the place well, she picked around the camp and sweet talked her way around a nurse to a rare luxury. It was here, anyhow.
She was led off to a separate tent housing a tub--it’s main purpose to clean off the bloodied and injured before care, but she would take what she could get. Any ounce of privacy out here was a virtue. Meticulously unlatching and sliding off each individual piece of her armor, she did a thorough inspection and found the only wound worth noting was the splotch of new, dark bruises that ran along her ribs, from the handles of demon blades. She hesitated before nimbly stripping out of the thin fatigues she wore beneath, noting her shin was in a similar, if not worse condition--and it hurt like a bitch. She made a mental note to avoid hooves, they’d really fucked her over lately.
Leaving her satchel and weapons at the edge, she climbed into the tub and sank down easily into the water, eyes falling lidded and a light sigh escaping her. She was suddenly, acutely aware of everywhere she felt sore; namely her arms, the muscles strained, a mark left where she had jerked and snapped the succubi’s neck and held on tightly around her shoulders...She thought on it all, and snaked deeper down until she was completely submerged, watching blood from her skin fade and stain the water. She stayed just like that until staying any longer would be dangerous, and resurfaced to muffled sounds escaping her pack.
Pushing wet, silver and black streaked hair from her face, she blinked and sat up to dig around in her satchel from the side of the tub, fingers closing around her comm stone. It was brought to her lips, and as she listened to the sound of her lover’s voice, the tension that had subconsciously prickled down her spine and tensed her shoulders slowly faded away.
“I’m alright...” She debated not telling Cherry about the battle, not wanting to worry her, but she did anyway--she knew she’d be able to pick up on any sort of lie of omission from Ky. So instead she told it all, the three demons she’d taken on, her own injuries, giving the general idea that she’d fared well. And she had, compared to the others. Still Cherry held her attention until she knew she was completely relaxed, the anxiety and mental strife that came from her powers, from killing, calm and settled. The paladin herself knew the effects of war better than most.
Not more than an hour later, she climbed out, dressed into a clean pair of fatigues, and began the long process of cleaning the blood out of her weapons and armor, thinking of the same mantra she always did to keep herself sane--some had to die for others to live. For her to live. It was just the way things were.
[ @blackbay-wra ] Mentions: @juniper-rose-blower, @brian-wellson, @patiencekindnesscourage