[It's fairly early in the morning when Sigmund comes stumbling into town. To say he's in bad shape would be a severe understatement. He's got several nasty gashes, some thankfully starting to scab over, some not, most of them bandaged with what he could rip off his undershirt without getting his armor off. The side of his cuirass is dented in a way that guarantees broken ribs underneath it. He seems dazed, and his eyes are a little glassy, both from blood loss and... something else. Everything looks wrong to him, although less wrong - more subtly wrong? - than hours ago. Yesterday? He's not entirely sure. Probably only yesterday.
His breathing is shallow, and he can't move more than twenty or thirty feet at a time before he needs to crouch down and rest. Despite that, he's making this trip take twice as long as it would otherwise by refusing to go straight through town, and instead moving furtively and sticking to sheltered, out of the way areas when he can. There's something of the injured wild animal about him, and he'll react about the same if approached.
He's having trouble thinking straight, but he knows he needs... something. Things to clean his sword and armor, right. Edward would be upset if they... if they... Edward would be upset. So the smithy will be his first stop. If no one's there, he's leaving them one hell of a mess for later. Sorry 'bout that. The tipped rack and general filth were an accident, promise. With that taken care of, he'll be intent on heading for his house. At least it's a short walk now.
He just needs to rest for a while. Really. Everything is under control.]
[Written, shakily, much later in the day]
The creature that was in the village yesterday has been dealt with. Those who were attacked may rest now.
(OOC: Aftermath of this.)
His breathing is shallow, and he can't move more than twenty or thirty feet at a time before he needs to crouch down and rest. Despite that, he's making this trip take twice as long as it would otherwise by refusing to go straight through town, and instead moving furtively and sticking to sheltered, out of the way areas when he can. There's something of the injured wild animal about him, and he'll react about the same if approached.
He's having trouble thinking straight, but he knows he needs... something. Things to clean his sword and armor, right. Edward would be upset if they... if they... Edward would be upset. So the smithy will be his first stop. If no one's there, he's leaving them one hell of a mess for later. Sorry 'bout that. The tipped rack and general filth were an accident, promise. With that taken care of, he'll be intent on heading for his house. At least it's a short walk now.
He just needs to rest for a while. Really. Everything is under control.]
[Written, shakily, much later in the day]
The creature that was in the village yesterday has been dealt with. Those who were attacked may rest now.
(OOC: Aftermath of this.)
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chasethestars
chasethestars
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It's curious, though. She's usually better with Nala and this is the second time the spirit hasn't been able to do as much as she'd like. Blocked, somehow. She frowns in concentration.]
Okay. Let me see if I can close some of the larger wounds. Nala is good at that. Then we'll wrap your ribs so they can continue to heal properly and then you can get some rest.
It isn't you.
Mmm? What do you mean?
I don't heal well. It isn't you.
She wonders if it's just a part of Sigmund's world - those 'blessing' he and Edward had told her about - or if it's part of who Sigmund is himself.
Strangely enough, she doesn't feel that it's her place to ask. At least, not right now.]
Well, you'll just have to get plenty of rest to make up for it. [Her voice is low and soothing - she may have noticed that he already seems halfway there. When this cut seems to have healed all that it was going to, she rewraps it with a clean bandage and moves on to check for other injuries.]
He mutters something indistinct and gestures in the general direction of another gash, though it's probably not all that helpful.]
She'll continue, quietly, calmly, and as gently and detached as she can be, until every wound is healed as best as she can make it and she is dangerously approaching exhaustion. She'd never encountered so much resistance in healing before.
Katara stands to go, but before she does she moves to bend off all the dried blood from Sigmund's body and clothes - it's not as good as a shower, but as she drops it into the small bowl beside the bed, that's all she's willing to do. She'll take that bowl with her when she leaves, but before she does she reaches out to make sure that he's laying there as comfortably and securely as possible.]