• PM To Join • Doctor, Doctor, Gimme the ne--BLARGH!

Qit'ria catches a touch of illness

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Qit'ria
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Doctor, Doctor, Gimme the ne--BLARGH!

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Kashehino Text
Cylus 17-22

Qit'ria hadn't seen Faith as she dropped off some hafrein meat at Cally's, leaving the raw deliciousness with a very reluctant waiting, demanding that they give it to the healer. Smiling, and with a nod, she left, wondering if Faith had given birth to her babies yet. She'd been so fat the last time Qit'ria came in for healing, for the oozing sores in her chest that remained. She was getting closer to figuring out the ritual to have them removed. And that was giving her a lot of hope toward the future.

She shuddered at a chill that ran through her body. It had been there since she woke up, that unnatural chill, despite being wrapped up in her cloak and used to the cold. Her breath formed clouds of fog in the midday air, and she looked up toward the moons that were out. She always enjoyed Cylus. Hunting by moonlight all season long helped her feel sneakier, more like a proper predator.

Wiping her brow with the back of her hand, she found sweat there. Confused, she touched at her head and hair only to find more. Why was she sweating? It was so cold out, and she hadn't been exerting herself. Trying to shake it off, she made her way to the market square, her furs rolled up under arm. Coughing a bit along the way, her chest was starting to hurt, she saw the man Faith had introduced her to. Moving over, she continued coughing, it was a dry cough, scratching at her throat.

"'ey there lassie, got some more furs fo' me eh? Those beava pelts ya brung me befo' were spot on. Wutchya got now?"

She nodded, but really didn't feel like speaking. She flopped the pelts onto his table, and he began examining them, divvying out the coin for each in turn. She sold almost exclusively to him, and with Faith's recommendation and backing, and Qit picking up his special requests, he always gave her a fair deal. Not the she really cared. She only earned money because people say you need it. Her coin purse was heavy and yet, she hadn't really found much to spend it on. She just didn't need or want for much.

She twisted her torso about, finding her back, neck and shoulders were stiff and aching now. Another coughing fit flared up, to the point that it made her a bit dizzy.

"Ya okay lassie?"

She nodded, taking her coins, and walking away. She wasn't paying any mind to where she was going, feeling light headed and dizzy as she continued to cough and hack. More sweat covered her body, her head was throbbing now, as she hobbled about through the streets aimlessly. The coughing struck particularly hard, and Qit had to stop moving in order to focus on just surviving that fit. And then she fell over, passed out from a loss of air from coughing too much, blocking someone's doorway, a crumbled heap in the snow.
word count: 523
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Amaris
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Doctor, Doctor, Gimme the ne--BLARGH!

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Amaris, for the most part, seemed to have a peculiar habit of attracting trouble or those in need. Or maybe they went looking for it without realizing. Whatever the case was, as they had meant to let Poppers out for a few bits, they happened upon the collapsed form of a woman practically at their doorstep. Brows raised, they tiptoed forward. Were they drunk? Amaris had to move closer to be sure and thus they found themselves crouching down beside the stranger, Poppers’ curling around their leg to peer at the woman curiously.

”Miss? Are you alright?” When there seemed to be no answer, they apologized silently before checking for a pulse. The mixed blood placed their fingers at her neck, brows furrowed now. Erratic and fast, and the woman’s skin was much too warm. Slightly damp; being in the cold wouldn’t help her obvious fever. Wrapping the woman up in her cloak, they motioned for the ever curious feline to head back inside while attempting to half carry, half drag the unconscious woman inside.

They were met with a chorus of yowls and meowing, and some huffing when they shooed a few cats away from the fireplace. They had read, during their studies, that sweating out a fever was one way to deal with it. That, and they weren’t entirely sure if it was simply just a fever. But it was still important to keep her warm. The medic prepped a pot of stew as they awaited the woman gaining some consciousness again.
Last edited by Amaris on Wed Feb 13, 2019 8:30 pm, edited 1 time in total. word count: 257
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Qit'ria
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Doctor, Doctor, Gimme the ne--BLARGH!

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Qit'ria didn't feel herself being dragged into Amaris' house. She didn't feel the warmth of the fire or how she was slumped unceremoniously next to it. She didn't feel the many curious cats sniffing at her, walking over her while Amaris was busy preparing food. And she most certainly didn't feel the male calico head butting her in the face, trying to get her to give him attention. And when the huntress stirred a bit, he headbutted a bit more insistently. Qit'ria rolled on her side, facing the cat, eyes still not managing to open, head swimming a bit, nausea coming over her in waves.

With a hurk, she upchucked a little bit onto the poor cat, who took off running with a reoooooow. Thankfully, there didn't seem to be much more vomit coming from that. Her eyes slowly dragged open, and she realized she was in a house. Confusion set in. She didn't own a house. Never had a desire to own one. That was for city people. Houses were so... rigid. So immobile, unadaptable, and all of them were ugly. She heard movement around her, and realized she wasn't alone. She could feel fire at her back. She did a mental checklist, or as best as she could in her mild delirium. It seemed everything was still attached, and all of her belongings were on her person.

She heard the movement again, as a hand snaked down her thigh. She found one of her throwing knives strapped there, and once she had a hand on it, she gripped it tight, pulled it out. She sat up in a swift motion, holding her knife out in front of her and found herself staring a pare of legs. Long legs. That went way up. Qit'ria's head tilted back to find herself staring up at an extremely tall women. And the sudden sitting up and arching her head back, Qit let out a groan and nausea spun through her once more. Glorp. A mess on the floor in front of the fire place.

Qit'ria continued to hold her knife up, albeit weakly, "Who you? Where am? What do me?"
word count: 376
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Amaris
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Doctor, Doctor, Gimme the ne--BLARGH!

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- common / murnasian

The only means the mixed blood had of knowing that their guest was awake was the yowl of a cat and the patter of paws. Turning, they spotted O’Malley running off. They grimaced at the sight of his fun coated in what looked like vomit, and soon the smell was filling the room as a voice filtered up to them. The medic’s visitor had indeed woken up, and seen it fit to empty the contents of her stomach over their floor. They might have been more displeased if not for the fact that they had done just the same a trial ago.

However, their main concern was to be on the woman. She brandished a knife and weakly questioned her whereabouts. Best to calm her down before she work herself up to something. Setting down the bowl in their hands slowly, they crouched down to be a little closer to eye level with the woman. “My name is Amaris. You collapsed at my door and I brought you inside. It was much too cold to leave you out there and you’re quite sick. I’ve just placed you in front of the fireplace to warm you up.” They made sure their words were slow and easy to comprehend, seeing as it didn’t seem like the other had a very solid grasp of Common. Or maybe she just preferred to speak that way.

“Do you still feel nauseous? I’ll bring you some water to drink and I’m almost done with the soup. I’m not a very good cook, but it’ll be something to put into your stomach and warm you up a bit more.”
word count: 283
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Qit'ria
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Doctor, Doctor, Gimme the ne--BLARGH!

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Qit'ria listened to the absurdly tall woman's words. Understanding most of them, save one. "What mean nah-shush?"
And then she glorped some more onto the floor. Everything inside of her felt wrong. She wouldn't admit it right now, but she was grateful the woman had brought her inside, out of the cold. Qit'ria forced herself upright, sitting cross legged in front of the fire, as another couple of cats snuck over to her vomit and were lapping it up. Qit'ria's body was covered in sweat, her clothes sticking to her skin. Slowly, she peeled off her blouse, followed by her trousers and loin cloth in one go, and piled them close to the fire. She leaned back on her hands, letting the warmth of the fire wash over her naked form.

"Soup good. Like soup. Healer Faith cook good soup. I make soup at food fair, seasons back. No one eat."

She reached over and scratched at one of the cat's head, her hand with the knife having fallen away. She still held the weapon but it was pretty much forgotten by her. She looked around the place, and saw cats everywhere. Curious eyes were cast from every corner, every surface, every high point. She'd never seen so many cats in one place before. And soon she had three rubbing up against her, competing for head rubs. And the knife was dropped to the floor and she gladly scratched them, listening to their light mrows of satisfaction.

But she was getting tired being upright, and so she laid backwards against the floor. Her eyes cast up on the woman who'd taken her in, and Qit realized she could see three of her. "You and sisters real tall. Like tree in Desnind. Why so tall? Women not so tall..." Her head lulled a bit, "I like you hair." She smiled at the giant. "Want coin? City people all want coin for help. Not Faith. Faith nice person. She heal me lots." Qit'ria began to point out every single one of her more recent scars, such as the one on her shoulder from the arrow of the hunter who'd shot at her, and the line on her thigh from her own sword, and the various patches of pink from where the Nightmare had burned away her skin.

"When soup?"
word count: 405
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Amaris
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Doctor, Doctor, Gimme the ne--BLARGH!

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- common / murnasian

They had been on the verge of explaining that nauseous, not nashush, meant having stomach upset and vomiting, but soon enough the woman was once more spitting up vile on their floor. The wood, if it could talk, would likely have a few complaints in regards to its mistreatment in the last few days. Clicking their tongue, they shooed their pets away from the vomit; they last thing they needed was for the felines to get sick as well. Not to mention what they'd already come close to consuming. Making sure there wasn't a furry body in sight, they were too preoccupied to notice that the woman had stripped down until she was done.

"Would you like a blanket? It's not a very good idea to...stay naked. I can bring the basin over for you to wipe the sweat off your skin, as well. They kept their gaze elsewhere, busying themselves with the aforementioned soup preparation. The pot was heavy, but only because of the bruising they were still recovering from. Their fall yester-trial was still fresh on their mind, and the horror of having fainted before Volker left a burning in their cheeks. "It should be about twenty or so bits for the soup to be done. There should be plenty for you." They had no intentions of eating; not with the images replaying in their mind.

Turning back to the woman at the mention of Faith, their brows rose. It would not be uncommon for someone to mention faith, but the mixed blood wondered if perhaps she had been on her way to the other healer before collapsing at their steps. But - sisters? "How many do you see?" It certainly didn't bode well if she was seeing more than one of them. "Genetics are why I'm so tall; I got it from my father. And - you don't need to pay me." They'd tagged on the last part as an afterthought, moving quickly to get water for the woman and to clean up their floor. The last they needed was for the woman to smell her own vomit and be encouraged to retch again.
word count: 366
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Qit'ria
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Doctor, Doctor, Gimme the ne--BLARGH!

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"Blanket, yes. Much nice idea. You wash me. Good healer."

Qit sat upright, crossing her legs, waiting for the misinterpreted bath from the tall woman. She doubted she could do it herself anyways. Her arms were feeling heavy, her mouth dry, her head spinning a bit. But the stew smelled delicious. If she weren't dehydrated, her mouth would be watering. Looking over at Amaris, she saw Kashehino rubbing against her legs. Well, as much as an incorporeal ghostly panther could. Qit'ria knew that Amaris wouldn't feel anything. Kashehino looked over at Qit, and through their mental link, "Darling, just look at this tall, dark skinned beauty. I bet she could make you feel small and cute. Isn't that what you always want?"

Qit'ria grinned awkwardly at Kashehino, and coincidentally, at Amaris legs. Speaking aloud at Kashehino, her face flushed with color, "I not know how do sex with woman. Be good panther, lie down." Turning her eyes up to Amaris' now, she just smiled, biting the inside of her lower bit. Kashehino was right about the woman. She was gorgeous. Like a tall Sev'ryn. Her bust was larger than Qit's own. This woman was far curvier than Qit was. Qit was always on the border of thin and unhealthily thin, living a life in the woods tended to do that. Qit'ria had only spent any intimate time with another person. He was tall, dark, and handsome too. Maybe she had a type.

Then her delirium spun the room again, and there were three of the beauties before Qit. "Three sisters. Amaris, what their names?" Qit missed the last bit that Amaris said. Something about jen ethics, whatever that meant. And no paying. She'd heard that much. That was awfully nice of her. Just like Faith. "Bath me now? I can bath you, aft.. aft.. after stew. Least I.. I.. do." She wobbled a bit, but caught herself on her hand.

"I cou... cou... could eat.. much... ...ew," she'd meant to say stew, but with her accent it might be heard as 'you'. "Bath... stew... bed..." She slowly slumped back down to the floor, enjoying the coolness of the floor, awaiting her bath and food.
word count: 380
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Amaris
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No - they hadn’t meant to suggest that they would wipe the woman down, but it seemed to be how she had taken it. But - they weren’t going to focus on that so much now. What mattered was not burning the stew, otherwise it would inedible and then what would be the point of it. And perhaps their focus was better than it might have been before, but they did not miss the woman say something about sex. Or maybe they’d heard wrong; would be likely. They just hoped it hadn’t been directed at them.

They didn’t have much use for knowing what her sexual history was like.

And that shouldn’t even have been a thought in her mind. She was much too thin and very clearly ill; getting healthy again would have been a much better point of contemplation. At the mention of sisters, Amaris turned, brows furrowing. “I don’t have sisters; how many do you see?” Maybe she really ought to be laying down. They’d ignored her offer - sure it was made in a state of delirium - and watched her moment until she was safely on the floor. For the most part, the mixed blood was sure that this was something to do with the cold and her open sores and maybe it wouldn’t be so hard to treat her. Otherwise, they would have sent for a healer from the Order already.

Though the stew was still mostly clear, they suspected it might very well be burning and that it had to be removed from over the fire least it truly burn. They were in no way a trained cook and as bland as they thought it might be, it’d do to warm the woman up some. Taking a quick moment to rifle through their belongings for a bowl that was absolutely coated in cat fur to give her. It was another matter of bits before the bowl was given to the woman, full of warm stew. “Drink this and then we’ll see about that bath.”
word count: 348
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Qit'ria
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Re: Doctor, Doctor, Gimme the ne--BLARGH!

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Qit'ria giggled girlishly at the strange question Amaris asked. She'd said three sisters. Right? She was sure of it. "Three! Glamaris, Famaris, and Ramaris, and you're Hamaris." She laughed at her own joke, wriggling about there on the floorboards. Such silly names. Especially that last one. Why was this woman so damn tall? Only men are that tall, and not many made it that high up. She was sure of it. Maybe she was part tree. That had to be it.

But when the soup arrived, Qit'ria was instantly back sitting upright. Though she was a bit woozy from the sudden action. Weird. Dizziness. She didn't care for that one bit. Luckily for Hamaris, there was nothing in her stomach to vomit up. Taking the damp bowl from the woman, "Thanks Hamaris. Are you man? You tall like one. You look woman. Pretty woman. Or pretty man?" This sent her into another lengthy fit of giggles. She took in a deep waft of the stew, "Smell much good. Much thanks."

She brought the bowl to her lips and began to slurp it down noisily and greedily. She was so hungry. It truly was delicious. Qit wasn't much of a cook herself, and most of what she made was meet cooked somewhat over a fire. She usually preferred to get it closer to black than further, because uncooked meat made her sick. She paused to take a breath.

"I hunter. No like being in city. When go back to forest? Heal take long? What you do? Is soup meddy-sin?"

She went to slurp more down and stopped, forgetting her impeccable manners. "You cook over good. Much like." Then she proceeded to continue slurping it down, somehow louder than before. Once it was done, she set the bowl down on the floor, and let loose a loud belch. A cat came over and began to lick the bowl, and Qit'ria reached out scratching its head. "Hungry hungry kitty."

"How many kitties?"

She took a deep breath, standing up to her full, much shorter than Amaris height. "Heal me time please. Want go ho-- ho... home." She was dizzy again, and fell toward the woman, catching herself on her. She leaned there, embracing Hamaris, just giggling. "I have wobbles." She relaxed against her, "You warm."
word count: 396
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Amaris
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Re: Doctor, Doctor, Gimme the ne--BLARGH!

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The bastardization of their name for the creation of their siblings could really be no more than the sickness talking. Delirium. Qit's honesty in regards to her opinion of the mixed blood's appearance was not...unusual. But simplistic and appreciated in its simplicity. A soft smile spread over their lips, though their brow furrowed with how quickly the woman seemed to scarf down her food. Surely it had to burn a little.

"Slow down; it will not run away." There were...some manners there. That was nice. But if Qit was not a person of the city, it did make it somewhat easier to gauge what had given her those wounds, but the sickness - there were already some assumptions but they would not be voiced. Another set of questions to answer came soon after. "It might take a while for you to heal up, so you may be here a while. Or at least until I get you stable and then you can go." They would have preferred to give a longer explanation but that didn't seem like something they could do with the woman. If anything, she might not understand the full scope of the situation with how they explained it.

Lips pursed, te considered it a moment longer. They'd leave it be. "Oh, I have quite a few. Twenty-one, actually." They rubbed the back of their neck, looking away for a moment. Amaris shouldn't have, though. Qit was standing but didn't get too far. The difference in height made catching her a little difficult, but it was done and the woman was relaxed against them.

This would be a long night.
word count: 280
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