#There is a Pleasure in the Pathless Woods || Lyrian's Replies ||

[dryadalismagicae]

@blackarrcw || LIKED for a STARTER

"You would be truly astounded to know just how much has been lost to time - the knowledge that has nigh evaporated from common knowledge and sank into legend." Sat, now falling far quieter, Lyrian adjusts the poise of his hood and the fixation of his gaze; the beauty of the distance captivating to he of whom had not seen such lands in a length of time uncomfortable to recall.

"Though, that isn't to say that everything lost to the past was worth remembering.."

[dryadalismagicae]

@thecacklingcrow asked: There you are~)

For but a moment, mayhap a few heartbeats more, Lyrian can find no words to speak nor form any variety of thought within his consciousness. He hadn't set eye on the other in... well, frankly it had been a damn long time. His sudden disappearance had been concerning, even in the beginning but it only grew more so the longer it had gone on.

Lyrian had been petrified to leave their camp in case he returned, but eventually... he had no choice but to leave with pressing threats lingering too close for comfort. He had often wondered just what had happened...where the other had gone to, why--- but he had resigned himself to never knowing.

"Zevran." He finally manages, voice erring somewhat on the side of surprised and breathless. "You---" He's happy, he's angry, he's uncertain and confused all in one volatile mix and, frankly, Lyrian doesn't quite know where to start. With his anger, perhaps? With his upset? With his relief?

"I thought you had been killed somewhere-!" Though he attempted to show anger first, his sheer upset and emotional turmoil was clear in his pale expression. His heart clenched, his stomach twisted, and he found that he could do naught more for a moment other than sit himself down and breathe.

[dryadalismagicae]

@daughterofhighever-blog || LIKED for a STARTER with Lyrian

"...truly. The work here may be constant and exhausting but it is no less rewarding, in its own way." His hands were raw, fingertips sore from the overworking of herbs - chopping and grinding, boiling, creating- nigh constantly when a moment of time was achieved. Otherwise- stitching and tending, wrapping and bandaging.

"That is... if one doesn't consider those of whom refuse treatment-" Simply because of his pointed ears; he'd folks limp into the crossroads, begging for aid - - and then pointedly refuse it simply because of Lyrian's race. Though it endlessly wounded his heart, there was naught he could do for it.

"Issues arise almost every day but it is what one ought expect in times such as these; uncertainty leads one to stick to ingrained choices and comforts- and fear the unknown far more easily." And he was certainly in no place to judge; it was how it was, and he had to simply do what he could - - - reasons for him leaving his staff aside all the more evident.

[dryadalismagicae]

@morethandarkness asked: " You're safe here. You can rest now. " { Thraeya } // for whoever!

Safe. Nowhere was safe.

The bitterness he had gained through living so very long twisted his consciousness towards the possibility of such things; safety had been dwindling in every place he had visited since he was a youth and it had only gotten more and more scarce the older he had become. Now, so very many years later, he began to experience it far more regularly.

Pockets of safety were rare.

"I appreciate your help." Lyrian chooses to utter, regardless of the turmoil plaguing his thoughts. He's tired, he's cold, he's hungry and still bruised from some days prior when violence had found him with ease on the road. "Allow me t o do something in turn for you? I've ample healing supplies if they would be of use to you."

[dryadalismagicae]

@luna-mxth asked; “I know I’m getting older.” -- From Sontna or Ansal to the muse of your choice on @luna-mxth! ;v;

"...We all get older, my friend-" Lyrian's words emerge quietly, his eyes fixated upon fingers, thoughts consumed by the immense ache that settled within knuckles. Getting older- the affects oft began to show when one least exacted it and though Lyrian may have been young in many eyes, his body was already beginning to slow and ache and rebel against his workload. 'T was, however, simply part of the beauty of life and its waxing and waning.

"Numbers matter very little, however- you are only ever as old as you feel."

[dryadalismagicae]

@reilinwarad || LIKED for a STARTER

"My---- aren't you a sight for sore eyes-" How long had it now been since his emerald eyes had settled 'pon his dear friend? It felt as if it had been months upon months, mayhap even longer, and throughout such a time had his mind oft wondered towards them, how they may have been- - - -

"How have you been, my friend? I admit, I have rather immensely missed your company." For the wilds were ever dangerous and there was always more and more people seeking aid while searching the roads for rescue and aid. Quite how much more he could offer, simply by himself, he knew not- but he had to continue to try.

[dryadalismagicae]

@stalwartprotector || LIKED for a STARTER

He cannot take another step, exhaustion from days upon days of long hikes and trekking simply unavoidable now and he can do naught more but sit himself within the long grass at the base of an oak tree and rest. He thinks himself away from the trail he had been following enough to buy himself some space- enough room to sense his surroundings and any that draw near but he grown quietly concerned 'pon the need to sleep and the unknown of where it is he temporarily settles.

Eyes of vibrant emerald slip closed, the aches and pains of yet untreated (but small-) wounds a distraction enough to avoid full sleep - but to a doze does he succumb. For some moments does he settle, hoping to rest well enough to feel better in some hours, but eyes reopen as senses spike towards another presence, one unrecognised.

"Who's there-?" His hand instinctively reaches for his staff, grip tight and knuckles white; he was a sitting target, after all- but he was no easy one, regardless of his current condition. "Show yourself-"

[dryadalismagicae]

@womanlives || LIKED for a STARTER

"I insist - please, you must keep still for but only a moment longer-" Fingers work swiftly, deftly, but cannot account for movement that comes from his apparent temporary charge; clearing glass shards from wounds was difficult enough, but one had to account for infection, for stitching and none of what he desperately needed to do as swiftly as possible could be while his company fidgeted.

"I cannot let you leave while you yet have an open wound." Words are uttered, but his attention never removes itself from tending as quickly as he is able while trying to be thorough. "One more moment is all I ask, then you may leave with your heal in tact."

[dryadalismagicae]

@lionofthealliance || LIKED for a STARTER with Lyrian

Urgency ushered movement, deft fingers stiff with arthritis work swiftly in order to tend to dire wounds and vicious infections. 'T is all he can do for those that flee war, that attempt to dissuade their very positions away from the vulgarities and monsters that now lurked 'pon the surface.

They'd lost their homes, family members, their very possessions and now they were fighting for their health while attempting to survive on the road, within small caravans that met and tried to continue onward. But they were no Dalish like he, many of them knew naught other than the lives they had lived, they knew not the ebbs and flows of nature and how to manipulate its bounty without exhausting its offerings.

It took some time, hours upon hours taken to tend to those of whom needed it the very most, but soon enough did he step aside, take a short walk away from the encampment and make an attempt at relaxing. Eyes, of bright emerald, temporarily closed and the ends of fingers were tucked against his person while arms crossed; a mere moment to himself.

Though it lasted not.

Something agitated his senses, set his consciousness unto a higher alert; a hand gently reaching for the staff upon his back, grasping it so to use should he need to.

"Whomever is there, I suggest you make yourself known." Far is it from the usual for the male to think of offering harm over help, but he had a duty to protect those of whom were fragile - those of whom could not do so themselves.

[dryadalismagicae]

@timeborrows || LIKED for a STARTER with Lyrian

Little was there in the ways of company at such an early hour of the morning, the beauteous rise of the sun just beginning to peak above the line of the horizon - through the wonder of the canopy of trees so tall one couldn't hope to guess their height.

He's silent, just as much as his surroundings; not a single movement made save for the slow blinking of eyes as green as the leaves that surround. Its a time he adores, when all creatures are just waking but not yet mobile; when there is yet peace in the air ere the madness of the day truly began to grow.

For some moments further does he relish in his comforts, the softened grass beneath his person bringing great solace - but he could not remain where he was for too long. The wilds seemed to grow more dangerous by the day and 't was not the creatures in which bore the most danger. No- 't was instead the men in armour that bought abysmal headaches when they grew too close - and he knew little of them. That alone was... frightening enough, especially when one was only ever within his own company.

Aching, raising him to his feet bought reminders of pains throughout joints and muscles. 't was with a softened sigh that he reached out for his staff and took a step east ere he paused, furrowed his brows and rolled a shoulder.

"Who's there-?" Sensitive ears take note of nearby movement - movement he would not apply to any animal he was aware of nor any avian fiend. No- 't was the movement of something else and that alone bought nervousness to his chest; any manner of danger could be sneaking upon his person and though he was a healer by trade, he could perform offensive magicks if forced. "--Show yourself-!"

[dryadalismagicae]

@gynvaell || LIKED for a STARTER

"I do remember doctors orders being more along the lines of resting near to warmth and not agitating healing injuries - - - but mayhap I was wrong, finding you this far from a campfire and most certainly not resting." Despite uttered words and the softened reprimand that lay within their tone, Lyrian's pale expression housed a smile.

A hot drink was offered forth, a personally brewed herbal tea in which he always gave to those of whom fancied something more than simple water; beneficial, too, when one was recovering from wounds;

"You've not pulled at your stitches rambling out here, have you-?" Concern, as ever, is at the forefront of his consciousness, eyes scanning his company in an attempt to ascertain whether aught was off.

[dryadalismagicae]

@lathal || LIKED for a STARTER

"You wish for me to talk of how the Infirmary is doing-?" His tired gaze speaks volumes, perch upon a rough crate just outside the infirmary building his only respite for some days. The fresh air, though utterly chilling, was welcomed after being caught inside for days on end nigh rushed off of his feet - and still the tides of injury seemed not to change.

"-- we can scarce keep up with the demand, we've not enough herbs to create what we need and even if we did, there are too few of us to delegate enough attention to the making of potions and poultices when we're needed constantly to tend to patients." And how many there were, too- More and more each and every day, in fact. "--There are only three of us with enough skill to tend to those needed with speed and accuracy, and knowledge, and although all help is appreciated - - we need more folk of whom are qualified."

[dryadalismagicae]

@charmingbrute || LIKED for a STARTER

"Keep yourself still-" His voice is quiet, scarce able to be heard above the sound of the whistling wind carrying thick snow. Finding the injured within the upper highlands, near to the mountains, was relatively common but most did not wake to see their sudden saviour. This time, fate had apparently decided differently. "You must focus upon resting for now. Your injuries are dire, my friend-"

Injuries were tended to the best of ones abilities, more hideous wounds treated with the gentleness of his own magic - blood vessels knitting back together under the will of his aether. Soft were hands in cleaning what was left behind, salves made in the light of the burning campfire applied ere bandages were wrapped to seal in and protect.

From there, the nameless male could do no more.; elongated ears trained upon the outside of the alcove in which they rest, akin to a cave though lacked the depth. even with the storm brewing as wildly as it was, pack animals and ferocious beasts still lurked and lingered in the hopes of praying upon the weak.

"Once you regain some strength, I can aid you to wherever you wish so long as you promise to rest enough to heal thoroughly." He sits silently for a moment longer, turning his attention to the rising snowdrifts ere it turned back to his unknown companion; "You must have taken quite the beating-. Did you have any travel companions?" Because he'd found no others along the way.

[dryadalismagicae]

@kaaras-adaar asked: Kaaras: *pats the booty*

It is a good booty.

[dryadalismagicae]

@firstbless || LIKED for a STARTER with Lyrian

"Truly, this would be far easier if you kept still-" Despite words, his smile is kind and his fingers delicate - fragments of glass so gingerly removed from his unknown company's shoulder so not to cause further distress.

"I understand, though- it must be rather strange being tended to by another healer, and one you've not met before, too-" He's purposely leaving aside the supposed elephant in the room for now; his poise being an elezen but one rather short in stature and one with rather obvious tattoos smothered across his pale complexion.

Pieces of glass were placed into a small dish to his side, the softened clink seeming to narrate every thought in which passed through his consciousness. Even pale brows furrowed after the length of a moment as he reached for an anti-inflammatory salve;

"You needn't worry, though - - I'm only passing through. I'm usually one to linger in the mountains as opposed to being within larger civilisations."

[dryadalismagicae]

@forgesahead || LIKED for a STARTER

"Tell me-" He uttered, his poise seated upon a low rock one of exhaustion, his voice filled with curiosity and intrigue; "How long has it been since the war ended?" For the last he could remember was its very beginning, all those centuries ago ere he had sealed himself away in utter seclusion.

Hooded and cloaked, he clung to anonymity for the moment, the fixation of his gaze upon his newfound company one unseen but no less curious. Mayhap he had chosen to remain away too long, the world changing by the year- and an immense number had cast on by - and now he was nigh clueless of the state of things.

"Are there more wars-? Conflicts?" Or had humanity left it all behind, in favour of peace? He had rather little faith in such - but regardless, he chose to stand, snow crunching underfoot. "My apologies- I've been a smite secluded, you might say-"