12.Jun.12, 10:18 PM
It was a real shame that Talian had driven Shel away before far could introduce them. Alas, it seemed no one could face the good Healer on his home turf. As the man held out his hand, Far relented, passing the precious bottle over to the Master. "It's been a long time since I've had a good drink." he reminded Talian anxiously, pushing himself up in bed when both of his hands were free. Arms were getting stronger, that was good, but Farlint was starting to curse his lack of mobility. Then again, having some important leg bones on the outside of his skin gave the impression that this wouldn't be the quickest of recoveries.
He could have been dead. He owed this other man- unassuming, quiet guy- his life. The least that Far could give him in return was the respect that was his due.
He met the Master Healer's eyes and gave him a broad grin and a thumbs up. "I did get it washed yesterday, but look at it, Tal! It could very easily get disgusting and sticky, and I'm bedridden. Hardly at my best. I need to be able to maintain a little of my pride and dignity, don't I?" Not that the mass of hair was his pride, or his dignity, but it helped him maintain the illusion that he could be up and about any day. The nurses knew better, Talian knew better, and most of the people who had cared to come and visit with the Beastcrafter knew better... but illusions helped.
"Feel free to check me out," he said thoughtlessly, waving at his leg. "I've got all day." It was a friendly grin, with the only bitterness in his tone not directed at Talian. Nor would it be directed at Hoth, if he or his Chosen had cared to check on the people the bronze dragonet had cut in his unbonded stumbling. His bitterness was at himself, for being too weak to keep standing. Maybe he could have Impressed a dragon. Maybe he could have gained a life partner if he had been able to stay strong.
He smiled back at Talian, eyes dark with a pain that wasn't only physical, eyes drifting to the other man's slender hands. Well cared for. Elegant. Hands that had spared Far's life, and may yet give him another chance at being a dragonrider.
He could have been dead. He owed this other man- unassuming, quiet guy- his life. The least that Far could give him in return was the respect that was his due.
He met the Master Healer's eyes and gave him a broad grin and a thumbs up. "I did get it washed yesterday, but look at it, Tal! It could very easily get disgusting and sticky, and I'm bedridden. Hardly at my best. I need to be able to maintain a little of my pride and dignity, don't I?" Not that the mass of hair was his pride, or his dignity, but it helped him maintain the illusion that he could be up and about any day. The nurses knew better, Talian knew better, and most of the people who had cared to come and visit with the Beastcrafter knew better... but illusions helped.
"Feel free to check me out," he said thoughtlessly, waving at his leg. "I've got all day." It was a friendly grin, with the only bitterness in his tone not directed at Talian. Nor would it be directed at Hoth, if he or his Chosen had cared to check on the people the bronze dragonet had cut in his unbonded stumbling. His bitterness was at himself, for being too weak to keep standing. Maybe he could have Impressed a dragon. Maybe he could have gained a life partner if he had been able to stay strong.
He smiled back at Talian, eyes dark with a pain that wasn't only physical, eyes drifting to the other man's slender hands. Well cared for. Elegant. Hands that had spared Far's life, and may yet give him another chance at being a dragonrider.