18.Jun.12, 10:56 PM
Far was tempted to strike a pose for his Healer, but he refrained from being quite that childish, instead choosing to stare fixedly at the ceiling instead of looking down at what he imagined was a ruin of his leg. "All my discomfort is thoroughly explained." he said with a certain level of cheeriness. "No fevers, but I do have to complain that I am very cold at night. Your nurses keep rejecting me." he couldn't help but look sad at that. (The second part was the same answer he'd given the day before; His ache, however, had been in his heart.)
It was a little depressing to farlint that his face was so very readable. He could imagine that he saw confused pity dance lightly over the healer's face, followed by a dogged determination that warmed the cockles of the Beastcrafter's drunken heart. "yeah," Farlint agreed with the Healer rather than give in to his self pity. He was better than that, and there was something about having heard the whispers, then seeing him standing straight and tall in his chosen profession that shamed the man.
In truth, Far had never expected this to happen. He'd always fallen and scraped here and there, of course, but he'd never fallen so hard and been so thoroughly unable to get back up. But this had been a harsh reality check in comparison to his dreams of being a rider. He'd just assumed he'd succeed, that he'd be what he wanted to be, and life would go on with a little hiccup the way it always had.
And then he'd seen his leg bone on the wrong side of his skin.
"Why are you sorry?" Far asked, glancing up at a man he almost envied. To love what he was doing so much that he didn't care if everything he'd given up in the North, albeit unwillingly, came to a messy, unfulfilled end? No... Far wasn't that strong, or unselfish.
The sound of water splashing reminded Far of something more important than his internal melodrama however: Far remembered his vanity. "I won't argue." Far assured the healer, undoing his hair.
It went unspoken, Far was sure, that all Tal had to do was agreeeeeee.
It was a little depressing to farlint that his face was so very readable. He could imagine that he saw confused pity dance lightly over the healer's face, followed by a dogged determination that warmed the cockles of the Beastcrafter's drunken heart. "yeah," Farlint agreed with the Healer rather than give in to his self pity. He was better than that, and there was something about having heard the whispers, then seeing him standing straight and tall in his chosen profession that shamed the man.
In truth, Far had never expected this to happen. He'd always fallen and scraped here and there, of course, but he'd never fallen so hard and been so thoroughly unable to get back up. But this had been a harsh reality check in comparison to his dreams of being a rider. He'd just assumed he'd succeed, that he'd be what he wanted to be, and life would go on with a little hiccup the way it always had.
And then he'd seen his leg bone on the wrong side of his skin.
"Why are you sorry?" Far asked, glancing up at a man he almost envied. To love what he was doing so much that he didn't care if everything he'd given up in the North, albeit unwillingly, came to a messy, unfulfilled end? No... Far wasn't that strong, or unselfish.
The sound of water splashing reminded Far of something more important than his internal melodrama however: Far remembered his vanity. "I won't argue." Far assured the healer, undoing his hair.
It went unspoken, Far was sure, that all Tal had to do was agreeeeeee.