((Taken from Role-Play))
Gelvira wormed her way through the dense, thick woods, back toward the stockade. She had been gone several days, and so decided to take the detour from her hut to the Lodge, in order to check on her pup, Heva. Alaric was already with her. On her way through the entrance of the stockade, she noticed the tent positioned towards its edge. She'd make her way toward it, calling Alaric to her side, so he would not feel the need to invite himself into Arastal's camp, or her tent. Upon arrival, she'd look around rather inquisitively, yet introduced herself there with a gentle tone; ''Is anyone here?''
Arastal appeared in the open entryway, having apparently heard Wood-Sculptor’s approach. “… Yes?” she replied softly, resting a quill-bearing hand on the tent flap not tied up. Her other hand, dropped down by her side, held a marked piece of parchment.
Gelvira blinks, nodding as Arastal came into sight; ''Ah, I thought this might've been where you were staying.'' She'd hesitate to look at Alaric, who remained beside her; ''But, I wasn't sure, since.. Well, I've not really been concentrating as of yet.''
Arastal watched the woman as she spoke and nodded quietly when she finished, turning aside briefly to set the quill and parchment down somewhere out of sight. Then, she stepped forward to kneel beside the little fire, taking up a stick to prod it back to crackling life. “… Concentrating…?” she asked, raising a brow.
Gelvira nods; ''Well, I have not been the most observant after the Battle. I don't know much about what's going on at the moment. Or who has stayed afterwards, and where there staying, in this case.'' She'd pause, having noticed the quill and parchment as Arastal had moved to place it elsewhere, a frown teasing the corner of her lips; ''Oh! I'm sorry. Am I disturbing you?''
Arastal shook her head slightly, though her normally ever-present smile nowhere to be found. “Not at all,” she said quietly, placing a fresh log upon the fire. Then she looked back up at Wood-Sculptor and gestured toward the open tent behind her. “Please, come in… Unless you were simply passing by?” she raised a brow, her face somewhat expressionless.
Gelvira looked to the elf, and then her tent for which her gaze lingered, before she'd eventually look back to her again; ''Well, I was hoping to speak with you, as it happens.'' Her frown, or at least the indication of one on her features was diminished, as a smile replaced it. It would be small, and brief, yet it was present. She'd take a step toward the tent, hesitating a moment, not entirely sure if she should enter yet, or wait until Arastal went before her.
Arastal stepped aside, gesturing to the woman go in before her, then bent to pick up from beside the fire a makeshift seat hewn from what must have once been a tree trunk.
Gelvira inclines her head a little as she'd enter the tent, having to do so given her statute. She took a few moments to look around, hoping not to look invasive, since she was merely intrigued. Despite this, she didn't really seem to know what to do with herself initially, but would take a seat where she found it to be most appropriate to, yet she'd be hesitant in doing so. She sat, rather gawkily, but not because of Arastal herself. It was mainly because of Gelvira and her tendency to be that way on occasion. Nevertheless, she ensured there were traces of a smile; ''Thank you. I'm glad I'm not intruding. I was hoping to speak with you about the Battle, if that is alright with you?''
Arastal had followed Wood-Sculptor into the tent and set the bit of tree down near the center of the tent, indicating with a graceful movement of her head that Wood-Sculptor could sit there if she so desired. The air inside the tent was surprisingly warm given the apparent lightness of its construction and the chill of the air outside. Additional warmth emanated from the revived fire.
A warm fur bedroll was set up near one wall. The dwelling was otherwise rather bare, but a collection of small earthenware pots, in addition to the quill and parchment, were piled on a small wooden table next to the entryway. A small red rug lay on the ground nearby.
“Of course,” Arastal said, a smile flitting briefly over her face as she reached down to pull the rug closer to Wood-Sculptor and the middle of the room.
Gelvira relaxed, her shoulders pulling back down to a reasonable stance, rather than lifted slightly. The tent was quaint, even despite the lack of commodity, and it hadn't been what she had expected, given Arastal's vocation. She'd sigh, very softly, before she'd begin; ''Well, the Battle wasn't something I was particularly prepared for, nor did I really feel like I was going to be much use. Not like Hound-Friend, or Tree-Walker, or yourself and Leohna in the Healer's tent. My craft is what I take pride in, so I've never really focused my time on anything else, particularly when it comes to violence.'' She'd pause, simply to take breath; ''I wanted to thank you, I suppose, for allowing me to assist in the Healer's tent and direct me with helping that woman.''
The elf sat down, cross-legged upon the rug, watching the woman quietly as she spoke, tilting her head at her last words. “It is *you* that should be thanked, for assisting us. You did very well.”
Gelvira shook her head, arguably too many times. She'd raise a hand, wafting it dismissively; ''I'll admit, it's not something I've ever done before, but.. The woman survived, which helped my feelings settle.''
Arastal shook her head gently in return. “Many people cannot function in such an environment. The burden of another’s life, the quick flurry of urgent moments…” The elf watched the woman carefully, with a firm set to her eye. “You did well. Though… I can understand if you did not *enjoy* it.” Her eyes crinkled slightly at the end, the corners of her lips briefly twitching.
Gelvira wrinkles her nose, shaking her head again; ''I did not. Enjoy it, that is. But, what I can do, is admire your willingness to do it. I suppose it takes a certain type of individual not..'' She'd pause, tilting her head slightly, as if contemplating how to word her thoughts correctly; ''Not to let the pressure, or responsibility, be too much. Does anyone really enjoy it, though?''
Gelvira nods, a brow raised; ''Do you find yourself thinking about that fear when you're helping someone? Or, is it the case where you don't really have time to think about it?''
Arastal’s brows pulled together, her eyes drifting over the other woman’s shoulder. But the moment was fleeting and her eyes quickly sought out Wood-Sculptor’s once more. “Yes,” she said simply. A slight pause, then she let out a breath she’d been holding. “When I was young, I struggled with this a lot. The fear that I would fail someone. Eventually, it happened. They cannot all be saved.” She fell silent for a long moment.
Gelvira opens her mouth to speak, yet finds herself at a loss of words, and so she too fell silent, looking down to her lap. She immersed herself in her thoughts, as she was at conflict as she wished to pry or not. She was intrigued, yet did not intend to overstep, especially as she was in Arastal’s abode. She’d sigh softly, finally looking up to locate the elf’s gaze again; ‘’You.. You don’t have to tell me, but, what happened?’’
The elf smiled gently, distantly, her eyes drifting back over the other woman’s shoulder, long fingers on one hand lightly worrying those of the other. “There was a scout that had taken on a particularly long-range mission. He was injured, and then cut off from the rest of us, trapped beyond the enemy. By the time he made it near enough the village to be found, it was too late for me to save him. He was a friend.” Arastal shook her head slightly and turned her gaze back upon the woman. “But such things happen. Too often.”
Gelvira nods, listening to the elf’s account carefully. Although she was genuinely intrigued, she couldn’t help but feel wrong in having asked her, and the look that carved her countenances may have enlightened Arastal’s acknowledgement to that. The corners of her lips twitched, turning downward into an evident frown, but her eyes sparked a resemblance of a thoughtful nature. When she could finally bring herself to speak, she spoke with a soft tone; ‘’I’m.. I’m sorry to hear that. But, you’re right, unfortunately it does.’’
There was an unusual hardness in her eye and firmness in the set of her mouth as Arastal replied, “It strengthened my resolve, and one might even say that I became a better healer for it.” The moment of harshness passed. Her eyes softened and a smile quirked her lips. “That story, perhaps, bore more weight than you wished to take upon yourself. But the short answer to your question is ‘yes.’ Fear of failure is natural in a profession such as mine. And you should not think less of yourself for feeling such.”
Gelvira blinks, still struggling to take the idea in initially, but eventually she would manage. She bowed her head, and as she found some comfort in the transition of the elf’s expression, her frown would disappear, and she’d return to be somewhat more relaxed; ‘’I don’t think it was so much feeling that at all, but I was more the fact that I felt it whilst the woman was simply lying there, bloodied, and kept looking at me to help. It was overwhelming, but.. I’m glad I could help her.’’
Arastal nodded, reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind a pointed ear. Then she changed the subject. “If you knew not where my tent was, then… What brought you this way?” Her smile broadened as she raised a brow. “I hope you were not wandering the stockade simply to find me.”
Gelvira shakes her head, chuckling softly; ‘’Oh no! I haven’t.’’ She’d hesitate, looking down toward Alaric, who had curled up tightly on her feet. This look was brief, as she did eventually look up to Arastal again; ‘I have actually just got back from the stockade. I visited Snow-Hair in her camp, and stayed more longer than I anticipated, but it was worth it. I was heading to see Heva, the pup I’ve claimed from the last litter, since I left her here with her siblings whilst I was away, and then came across your tent.’’
“Snow-Hair…” the elf paused a moment, then released a breath she’d held in. “I hope that she does well. I do not know the history that lead her to leave the clan, but I hate for anyone to be alone in a foreign land.”
Gelvira outstretched her arms, so that her hands rested on her lap, her left on top of her right. As the elf spoke, she absently lift her left hand to glide over her right arm, as she allowed an undeniably heavy sigh seep from her. She’d bow her head, avoiding the elf’s gaze, but hoped to locate it for when she finally spoke; ‘’I’ll admit, I hate it too. I don’t know all of it, either, but I know she’s happier now than she ever was here.‘’ She’d pause to take a breath, prolonging it’s release, before she’d finally continue; ‘’So, I’m happy that she’s happy, even if I’d rather her be here.’’
Arastal’s brow furrowed a moment as she watched the woman, but it smoothed when their eyes met. “Among my people, it is not so uncommon that those dear to each other must live apart for large spans of time… Though it is rather difficult. I am sorry that you must feel her absence.” After the barest of pauses, she continued with a warm smile that glimmered in her eyes, “But a new pup is something to celebrate, yes?”
Gelvira bowed her head, emotional from her recent departure from her love, yet managed to conceal this by sufficing a faint smile. She would not answer Arastal’s initial interaction, as she assumed her smile was enough, and so when she spoke, she spoke of her new hound; ‘’It is. She’s a delight, honestly. I’m glad she’s bonded with Alaric, as I was not sure that she would at first. I’ve had Alaric for so long, and it has very much been just the two of us, so I wasn’t sure how he was going to react for my attention to be given elsewhere, but he’s been brilliant, too.’’
The healer chuckled softly. “Sometimes, animals get along far better than people do, and make far more sense. When will you begin training with Heva, or have you done so already?”
Gelvira chuckled along with the elf; ‘’Perhaps they do.’’ She’d pause again, shaking her head; ‘’I’ve not begun yet, but I will be soon. Speaking of Heva, I should probably go tend to her..’’ She wouldn’t lift herself up to stand just yet, but she would look to be preparing to; ‘’Thank you for letting me speak with you.’’
“Of course,” Arastal began to unfurl from her cross-legged position. “You can come speak with me at any time, should you care to.”
Gelvira nodded, finally lifting herself up to stand. Her smile did return, and perhaps was more visible than it had been throughout this encounter, as it was wider this time; ‘‘I will keep that in mind. I’m sure I’ll see you soon.’’
The elf stood alongside the woman, and stepped over toward the tent’s entry. “Be well, and may the stars light your way,” she said warmly with a slight nod.
Gelvira followed the elf to the entry; ‘’And you.’’ With that, she would take herself out of the tent, Alaric following closely behind her, as she made her way from the tent toward the Lodge.
Arastal watched Wood-Sculptor's departing back for a moment, smiling at her hound's loyalty. Then she turned away to take up the parchment again, inked her quill, and set herself to her writing once again.
