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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Foxbytes" data-source="post: 7013979" data-attributes="member: 6866331">[align=left]http://i65.tinypic.com/2cmqmaa.jpg[/align] ~  Rána admonished Derngar in her elvish tongue, her attention still focused on her current patient as she rubbed the oil from a plant leaf into his skin.  "<If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times,> Son of Korgon, " She turned to try and glare sternly at him, but when she saw him leaning towards her with that smile of his, she laughed in spite of herself.  She could never be severe with the large human; she was just too fond of him.  She capitulated as her language slipped back into common.  "Well, t'ey really gave yer hard head quite a wallop t'is time.  Very well t'en, hold still..."Rána set the child in front of her down off of the barstool and ushered him back to his worried father.  "It's no' t'blight, not'ing more t'an a stubborn heat rash.  Keep him away from t'forges, and keep t'skin dry, it should start to improve once t'weather does."She cleaned her hands with an alcohol-soaked towel as she climbed up on the barstool herself, so as to be able to reach the towering fighter better, and clicked her tongue gently at him.  "No no, don't lean down, tilt yer head back...t'at's t'e way..." Derngar knew as well as Rána did that head wounds often bled profusely anyway, but far worse after alcohol had been consumed in quantity.  What she was really looking for were signs of concussion.  His eyes dilated reflexively in the lamplight, and he didn't seem to have trouble keeping his balance even in this awkward position, so she was fairly confident that the injury was superficial.  She cleaned away the worst of the blood from his face and beard with a damp cloth."...Normally, a palmful of ice would ha' been best, but on a hot night like t'is, ice is a rare commodity..."  Instead, Rána took a bitter-tasting root from one of her medicinal pouches and bit off the end of it, gnashed it with her teeth, then spat it out again and placed the wad against the laceration on Derngar's brow. "It's a congealant," she explained.  "Here, hold it t'ere and apply pressure for just a moment.."As soon as Derngar had hold of the make-shift poultice, Rána hopped off of the stool and made her way to the bar.  She recognized Fitz on the far end, and rested a hand on the bookish gnome's shoulder in a warm, but wordless greeting as she simultaneously stretched over for a fresh pitcher of water.  He seemed engaged in conversation with one of the more isolated patrons, and Rána did not want to intrude on their privacy.She passed by Lorelei just as the exotic singer was pouring herself a glass of wine, and Rána gave her a nod of appreciation.  Her song tonight had been extra beautiful, and though the setting for it was all wrong, it made Rána nostalgic for the voices of the totemic elves, which had not lifted in song to their gods in nearly half a century.The healer returned to Derngar's side, and she placed the pitcher of water in his large, open palm. "Looks to have done t'e trick, yer bleeding has stopped for now.  Keep to drinking t'is tonight, or it might weep open again." Rána's gaze danced briefly between Derngar and Lorelei, her keen senses unable to miss how the air changed around him whenever the enchanting girl took stage.  Impulsively, the question was free from Rána's lips before she could wrestle it back down.  "...Why don't ya just talk to her?  She's a strong-minded sort, plenty of wit about her...I could invite her to yer table if ye're preferring." ~</blockquote>

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