23.Oct.17, 02:34 AM
V'ler didn't get a chance to reply to her comment before the man in question was ushering them in. The older man asked his questions about what happened and even seemed patient when V'ler struggled to explain. It was only partially due to emabarrassment about his clumsiness and being too absorbed in his own head. Mostly it was due to the pain. In slow sentences he explained his walk and apparent tumble and winced when Quennell filled in some blanks based on his injuries. It seemed his left arm broke the majority of his fall but he still smacked his head on the ground causing a small gash to appear. He was assured that the blood that he realized had been trickling down his neck and in his hairline seemed like a lot due to head wounds bleeding a lot even if they're small cuts. He offered Indivara a crook of the lips that could be called a faint smile to assure her he was fine despite all the blood that was adding to the queasiness he was feeling.
Unfortunately that smile faded quickly when Quennell began fussing with his wrist after he checked his head. "Broken?" V'ler repeated the word after the pain that caused his vision to blur when the Healer touched his hand faded. "No. I need that. I write with that hand. I need it for the guitar. I write with that hand," he stated again, not aware he was repeating himself as he glared at the Healer and his wrist in turns. He was a Harper. Well, a bluerider that was a Harper, but still one all the same. He wrote songs. He wrote about history being made. He was constantly writing. How was he supposed to live without that if it didn't heal?
Panic started to set in and green eyes went wide as he came up with scenarios that all ended in doomsday for him. What if the break never healed? What if it healed but something messed up and he still couldn't use his hand? What if it healed and there was nerve damage and he couldn't hold a quill or he could but his hand shook so much he couldn't read his beautiful writing?
A small blast of cold hit it from the side as Quill and Vex made their appearance, chittering anxiously at him. Veeth had done well to keep them away as long as he had and while the high pitched voices were adding to his headache, V'ler was happy to see his two blue firelizards. His right hand went out to give each a pat on their small heads, liking their distraction from his horrifying thoughts even though those were likely what brought them to him. Still, he sent them to sit on the other side of the room so they wouldn't be in the way of Quennell who had returned with a tray of supplies to apparently set his wrist. The Healer started to explain what he was about to do but V'ler tuned him out and looked away. He didn't like blood and didn't like pain. He really didn't want to hear about anything the man was about to do to him.
Unless it involved a glass of fellis or a bath of numbweed.
Unfortunately that smile faded quickly when Quennell began fussing with his wrist after he checked his head. "Broken?" V'ler repeated the word after the pain that caused his vision to blur when the Healer touched his hand faded. "No. I need that. I write with that hand. I need it for the guitar. I write with that hand," he stated again, not aware he was repeating himself as he glared at the Healer and his wrist in turns. He was a Harper. Well, a bluerider that was a Harper, but still one all the same. He wrote songs. He wrote about history being made. He was constantly writing. How was he supposed to live without that if it didn't heal?
Panic started to set in and green eyes went wide as he came up with scenarios that all ended in doomsday for him. What if the break never healed? What if it healed but something messed up and he still couldn't use his hand? What if it healed and there was nerve damage and he couldn't hold a quill or he could but his hand shook so much he couldn't read his beautiful writing?
A small blast of cold hit it from the side as Quill and Vex made their appearance, chittering anxiously at him. Veeth had done well to keep them away as long as he had and while the high pitched voices were adding to his headache, V'ler was happy to see his two blue firelizards. His right hand went out to give each a pat on their small heads, liking their distraction from his horrifying thoughts even though those were likely what brought them to him. Still, he sent them to sit on the other side of the room so they wouldn't be in the way of Quennell who had returned with a tray of supplies to apparently set his wrist. The Healer started to explain what he was about to do but V'ler tuned him out and looked away. He didn't like blood and didn't like pain. He really didn't want to hear about anything the man was about to do to him.
Unless it involved a glass of fellis or a bath of numbweed.