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RESPITE FALLS - OUTSIDE PLUME'S OFFICE - EARLY AFTERNOON
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Nesseth grumbles to himself as he slowly makes his way over to Plume's office alongside Louma, looking perhaps a touch more scuffed and ruffled than is normal after a return from a hunt. Grumbling as he is, however, he does give Louma a bit of a grateful glance. "Thanks for the quick transport back to town, Captain."
Louma is doing her absolute best to keep her composure in the street, which to her credit, she's managing quite well. She's in her typical uniform, with a longbow slung across her chest and a quiver at her hip. She nods to Nesseth, looking toward the clinic. "No problem, Nesseth. It's important to get those cuts looked at, can't risk you getting an infection."
Nesseth hums, a bit discontent as he goes to open the door leading into the clinic. "Yeah... yeah. Wouldn't want any of this to get worse. I hope Plume's not busy..."
Doc Plume is just seated at their desk, catching up on one of the medical journals they can never seem to get up to date with. They blink at the sight of Nesseth as he and Louma walk in. "Oh my..." They quickly head over to the cabinet and fetch the pot of iodine paste as well as a dish and a cloth, switching the kettle on to boil some water for sanitation.
Louma nods, slithering into the clinic after Nesseth. She cracks a bit of a smile as Plume shows their concern, a bit warmed at the display. "Good afternoon, doctor. I hope you have a moment to tend to this soldier." The door snaps shut behind her, allowing Louma to relax slightly.
Nesseth manages a smile upon seeing Plume, though, his smile grows a little awkward as they get up and start gathering up materials to treat his injuries. "Uh... hi, Plume. We're back from hunting."
Doc Plume sets up by the examination table and quickly fills the bowl from the kettle. They then pause for a moment to look Nesseth over again. "Just skin lacerations? Nothing deeper or more serious?"
Louma watches the pair for a moment, settling onto her coil.
Nesseth makes his way over to the table and hoists himself up onto it, making himself comfortable sitting at the edge. "Just cuts and bruises, best as I can tell. Everything else is okay."
Louma snerks from her spot, covering her beak as the sound is rather unbecoming. "Well, perhaps check for a few bruises in his head. Mostly around his pride."
Doc Plume wrings out the cloth in the hot water and wipes down Nesseth's scales gently, making sure there's no debris in the wounds. "Do I want to know what happened exactly?" They frown as they pick out a broken off thorn from one of the larger cuts with their talons.
Nesseth twitches in discomfort as the thorn gets removed and as the hot cloth rubs over the cuts, but he doesn't budge otherwise. After a moment, he shoots Louma a bit of a look. "Maybe Louma could tell you better... She seems to really want to talk about it."
DocPlume sets down the cloth and starts looking for more embedded thorns, just giving a little nod in assent.
Louma giggles, turning a bit away with a shrug. "I did have an excellent view of the event..." She glances back toward them, trusting herself not to laugh. "Well, your boyfriend here really is an excellent hunter. He was tracking a gorgeous buck, and I was simply flying circles overhead in case he bolted."
Nesseth nods, at least begrudgingly admitting Louma was quite helpful in helping him track the target. "Louma makes for excellent overwatch."
Doc Plume finds a couple more thorns, then returns to washing down the last few areas before taking up the pot of iodine. "I see... and where did the thornbush come into the picture?" Without any warning, the firsrt smear of yellow-brown paste is applied to the largest of the cuts.
Nesseth is about to answer when he jerks in surprise, groaning from the sudden shock that hits him as the iodine starts to burn. "A-aaargh!!"
Louma waves him off with a tsk, chuckling. "I see him give me the signal he was ready, and get ready to chase... As I'm turning about I lost sight of our great hunter, and the next thing I know he's rolling backward down a hill. Directly into a rose thicket." She breaks out into a grinning fit of giggles, recalling the image. "Sorry, sorry... But even the game hen that spooked you was laughing~"
Doc Plume gives Nesseth a somewhat stern look. "You should be used to that feeling by now." They do lean down and nuzzle their beak against the side of his neck for a moment before looking over to Louma as they continue the application of the iodine. "Game hen?"
Louma nods, calming down from her giggles, but still grinning. "Nested in his cover of choice."
Nesseth grunts a bit, his jaw clenched as he leans against his knees for a moment. Once the burning fades to a dull throb, he sighs. "I know... I know... still, I don't get why it burns so much... ugh..."
Doc Plume shrugs. "Burns less than an infection, at least." They sigh a bit before smiling at Nesseth. "I don't like it either. No one does." They finish with the iodine and set the pot aside. "So... a chicken spooked you and you rolled into a thatch of wild roses?"
Nesseth sighs and nods again, definitely looking like his dignity took more of a beating than his body. "Yeah, that's about right... Louma was on overwatch while I was setting up to bag our game, and... well, the bush I braced next to had a hen nesting in it. The thing surprised me with its squawking and I took a tumble down the hill a few feet behind me... right into a patch of wild rose bushes."
Doc Plume can't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation, though they stifle it down to a quiet giggle after only a few seconds.
Louma nods, crossing her hands on her coil, continuing to calm down after getting the short story out. "It took a bit of work to get his gear unsnagged. He was stuck with a leg higher than his head for a few minutes."
Nesseth finds himself smiling a little despite the situation just because of Plume's laughter, but he does shake his head. "Yeah, wasn't the most comfortable of positions to be stuck in, and the buck got away to boot."
Doc Plume cocks their head before running their hands over Nesseth's legs one at a time. "Any pain or weakness there? No sign of strain or sprain?"
Louma looks out the window, chuckling. "Always another day, and another hunt."
Nesseth shakes his head as he gives his legs a bit of a swing. "No, nothing that isn't from the cuts, anyway..."
Doc Plume nods a bit, smiling. "That's good... still, this is more than a little incident. That many lacerations is a lot of possible sites for infection." They look to Louma and smile. "Thank you for bringing him here, Captain. I think I'll keep him here for observation... make sure no fever or the like develops." They grin just a little, but are also at least a little bit serious.
Louma grins in return as she turns back to Plume, nodding. "Understood." She looks toward Nesseth; "Well, I'll find someone else to take your patrol tonight, then. Doctor's orders." She begins to uncoil, preparing to leave.
Nesseth hums and nods. "Alright then, Louma. Thanks again for the transport back. Hopefully the next hunt has less... surprises." He sighs a bit as he rubs at the area around one of the larger cuts in an effort to soothe the throbbing from the application of the iodine, "And thanks for the treatment, Plume..."
Louma nods, beginning on her way out before she pauses, chuckling to herself again. "Oh, and I know it's fun for you land dwellers. You don't have to go to such extremes next time you want to experience flying, Nesseth."
Doc Plume sees Louma out before returning to Nesseth and leaning in to rest their forehead against his. "I'm just glad you're okay." They resist the urge to hug him at the moment.
Nesseth calls to Louma as she departs, a slightly sarcastic edge in response. "I know, if I want to experience flying again, I just have to end up sparring with you again. See you later, Louma." He chuckles as he then leans lightly into the forehead bump, "It was just such a ridiculous set of events..."
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THE THIRSTY MINNOW - EVENING
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Brunilda leads Fiora to a backroom in the Minnow, the two dressed in their relatively casual non-armors; Brunilda herself just wearing a white shirt and and shorts which are really her finest wear - not that she has ever worn a dress anyway. She and Fiora have spent most of the afternoon and into the early evening sparring, Brunilda perhaps being somewhat more emotional than usual because something's obviously in her mind. She is somewhat nervous having spent a chunk of her pay into this room and the accompanying dinner, but has been wanting to express her feelings in an obvious, non-intrusive way for a while now. The room itself is relatively small in comparison to the two big ladies, only having the single table for them, set up with a singular candle (with couple of lanterns on the walls providing most of the actual light).
Fiora follows Brun, exhausted but still riding on that high of combat, with Brun being particularly passionate today, giving Fiora as good as she gave. She's wearing much the same, a simple shirt and shorts that she tends to wear when jogging, albiet not as sweaty, as the pair at least showered off after their dueling before coming to the bar for Brun's surprise. She pauses at the entrance of the room, letting out a bit of a laugh at the setting. "...Heh, okay, not what I was expecting, that's for sure."
Brunilda steps onto her side of the table, giving Fiora a slightly questioning look but only nodding in response. She takes a bit of breath: "...I thought a good meal after today would be good..." She trails off, any plans she had in her head sort of vanishing now that the situation is at hand.
Fiora chuckles, glancing at Brun with a grin, "Well, you're not wrong. It's honestly more planning than I've ever done for dinner."
Brunilda sits down as she motions Fiora to do the same: "Barkeep will bring our food and drinks in a moment." She then pauses, just sort of looking at Fiora with a warm if slightly distracted smile.
Fiora pulls out a chair and takes a seat, opposite Brun. She lifts a hand, rubbing her neck awkwardly, "Honestly, no one's really ever planned a dinner for me either. Seems a bit weird to me. Not, like, bad weird. Just weird."
Brunilda gives a nervous chuckle: "...was kinda weird for me, but I wanted to do it." She idly fiddles with her utensils, trying to summon the actual thoughts she did this for.
Fiora grins a bit, "Well, I mean, it's kinda obvious, Brun. I mean, hell... the way you fought today..."
Brunilda blushes as she smiles weakly: "...w-was I that obvious?"
Fiora shrugs, "You're not subtle. And I mean... fighting is what I know, Brun. Better than anything. Been fighting my whole life. I can tell when someone is fighting for what they care about... Which... sheesh..." She blushes a little.
Brunilda smiles, looking at Fiora: "W-well... y-you don't fight with me like you do with others either, i-if that helps."
Fiora blushes a little deeper, "Heh. W-well... I try? To uh... well, I don't hold back, that's for sure."
Brunilda looks aside: "F-for one, you guard your chest a lot more with me. Uh..." She looks back up, giving a guilty smile: "Uh."
Fiora pffts, "Well, can you blame me? Chest is still sore in the mornings." She laughs again, "I... that's what I mean. Passion. When you let yourself have it..."
Brunilda looks at Fiora in a rather warmer way than the day she made her chest sore: "...you do make me awful passionate, I t-think."
Fiora glances away a little, "W-well, uh... yeah. I guess that's... obvious. Unsure if it's a wise idea but uh... yeah. I definitely um... know that."
Brunilda gives a wry smile: "...n-not sure anything I ever do is wise, so we c-can't be really sure here either." She pauses, about to say something else when Barkeep quietly walks in, leaves them two bowls of extremely hearty stew and tankards of beer, and leaves without a word.
Fiora looks down into the stew, stomach rumbling after a long day of physical exertion. "I'm no expert on wisdom, Brun... so you can't look to me for that. I'm kinda... whatdoyacall it? An idiot..."
Brunilda nods at the stew: "W-well, just because I've read a few books doesn't mean I'm smart. Let's eat." She pauses for a second: "...And you're not an idiot, Fiora."
Fiora glances back at Brun, a little unsure what to say to that. Instead, she merely nods, picking up a spoon for the stew, "Uh, yeah. Let's eat."
Brunilda nods and starts eating as well, feeling fairly good despite the silence. Hunger taking priority over parsing their emotions, she doesn't elaborate for a moment.
Fiora eagerly digs into the stew, her hunger also at the forefront of the moment. She's admittedly not a petite eater, and washes it down with the beer.
Brunilda comes from a family of guards, not nobles and her table manners are about as good (or bad) as Fiora's. "Mmm... simple, but so good."
Fiora puts down the beer with a satisfied 'urp', "Heh, nothing wrong with simple if it hits the spot."
Brunilda nods as she takes a gulp of her own beer, smiling as she sets it down: "Yeah." She looks at her now-empty bowl, thinking: "...yeah. Where -" She lets out a mighty belch, grinning: "Uf. Sorry. Where were we?"
Fiora laughs, "Uh... we were... somewhere. Something about passion and wisdom?"
Brunilda blushes with a smile: "W-well, think we got one of them covered. Least a bit." She muses for a second, before reaching towards Fiora's hand: "...we do have passion, d-don't we?"
Fiora glances down at Brun's hand, and slowly moves hers closer to let Brun take it. "I... uh..."
Brunilda gently takes Fiora's hand, not looking up just yet: "I... w-would at least want to pursue this. If you'll have me." Her voice is uncertain and just a touch on the verge of breaking up.
Fiora squeezes Brun's hand. "I... Ugh." She takes a deep breath. "Y-yes? I mean... I'm trying, Brun... I... I'm trying really hard. I like you. I just... I'm not a uh... all that passionate, I guess. With the feelings and... ah, crap. I'm not making any sense here am I?"
Brunilda looks at Fiora, uncertain: "You've been... plenty passionate, at least when we're sparring. And you certainly make your opinions known. Is that... is that all it is, then?"
Fiora shakes her head, "No, no! No it's... I mean... how do I even describe it? I... I'll say that I love you, Brun, and I'd mean it... I want to spend time with you, and be close to you. I trust you, I respect the hell out of you... but if you're looking for something more physical, a-and I don't mean a sparring partner... I'm not sure that I can do it. Not with you... not with anyone."
Brunilda blinks in surprise: "You... oh. I m-mean, I've never... with anyone."
Fiora shakes her head before she looks away, feeling strangely ashamed. "Never... never wanted it."
Brunilda looks at Fiora, not sure what to think: "I've never... c-considered. I just assumed... that it's what everyone..." She sighs, looking aside.
Fiora takes a deep breath, "I... I'm sorry. If that's what you're looking for in a relationship... I can't... I can't give that you. I've... I've never gotten close to folks easily. Hell, I can't even get close to my own sister, and I don't know why! Y-you're closer than most, Brun. I let you in, and I don't want to hurt you... but I can't be something I'm not."
Brunilda nods, sighing as she leans on the table: "To be honest, I don't know what I want now. I thought I did, but now you're... I mean we're... I mean I am... ugh." She lifts her hands to her temple, closing her eyes.
Fiora shifts a bit uncomfortably, still holding Brun's hand, but she's uncertain too. "S-should... I go?"
Brunilda opens her eyes again, looking at Fiora. "I don't know... I had cake for us but I guess I can ask Barkeep to keep it til later..." She sighs: "...I just don't know, Fiora."
Fiora slowly releases Brun's hand. "I... okay. I'm sorry."
Brunilda gives Fiora a weak smile: "I'm sorry too."
Fiora sighs, "Well... not like I'm going anywhere, I guess... if..." She shakes her head. "I... I'm willing to try. But if not... I want to be friends still, if we can."
Brunilda nods slowly: "Y-yeah... me too. You're the... best sparring partner I've ever had." She is clearly hurt and confused in current state, though attempting to keep a brave face of sorts.
Fiora cringes, not exactly feeling great for her own revelations and emotions at the moment. She sighs, "Told ya... I'm an idiot."
Brunilda sighs, looking down: "That at least makes two of us..."
Fiora glances up, "You're no idiot, Brun. You're not. You just deserve someone who can return that passion to you. And I wish it were me."
Brunilda looks at Fiora, feeling her heart drop: "...but..." She looks aside again, not able to stop her tears anymore as she closes her eyes.
Fiora stands up from her seat and walks around the table, coming closer to Brun and hesistating before she embraces the elephant in a hug.
Brunilda jolts slightly at the hug, but leans onto it after a second, sniffling. "...I just wish..." She trails off, not even sure if she has the words to finish that sentence.
Fiora sighs, "I... me too. Me too..." She's doing a good job of being strong, but her own heart feels like it's being crushed as well, really wishing had found someone who understood.
Brunilda squeezes tighter for a moment, swallowing. She then lets go and whispers softly: "...see you, uh, at the training grounds?" There's almost no emotion in her voice as they all compete for relevance in her heart.
Fiora slowly lets go, tears in her eyes. "I... I guess so, yeah. I..." She stares down at Brun, then leans in to give her a passionate kiss.
Brunilda blinks several times before leaning into the kiss: "Mmmph? Mmm..."
Fiora lifts her neck back up, closing her eyes as the kiss ends. "I... love you. That's no lie. I just..." She sighs. "S-see you around, Brun."
Brunilda stares at Fiora, dumbfounded: "See, uh... around..." She's slightly different flavor of confused than just a moment ago.
Fiora lowers her head and turns to head out of the private room, balling her fists tight as she pushes the door open and heads out through the door into the bar, and out into Respite, exhausted and emotionally drained, but there's no way she can sleep tonight after that.
Brunilda looks at Fiora go, but doesn't get up from her chair. After staring at the table for a while, she just orders another beer, intent on switching to staring at it instead.