[ the fractured shell seeps of monster blood and something thick and oozing, absorbing into the sand with every wet, pelting drip. it makes the woman wrinkle the bridge of her nose, but not much else as she sets the beak of her boots against the carapace and pulls the weapon from it with a single slosh. she could clean up after, and brings the spear back to its spot behind her back.
her priority was now the young man, here, struggling to breathe steadily as much as rise. the woman with silvery hair chopped to a pixie cut and cool ice blue eyes never takes her attention off him. she looks for injury, warnings, and finds nothing more than the superficial. ]
Can you stand?
[ professional, astute— but there's a silver lining of compassion at the end of her words that she can't quite bottle. ]
no subject
her priority was now the young man, here, struggling to breathe steadily as much as rise. the woman with silvery hair chopped to a pixie cut and cool ice blue eyes never takes her attention off him. she looks for injury, warnings, and finds nothing more than the superficial. ]
Can you stand?
[ professional, astute— but there's a silver lining of compassion at the end of her words that she can't quite bottle. ]