[M]Angel in disguise
The night was warm, and the dirt road was nearly deserted. A single figure walked along it, a leather satchel swinging at her side. She was slender, and you might even be tempted to call her delicate if not for the sharp looking short sword at her hip, and the way she carried herself. You might expect a woman at night to be frightened, or hurrying along to reach the nearest town to escape the growing dangers of the night. But her gait was calm and even, her back straight. She gave the air of being unafraid, and that she knew how to use the blade at her side.
The moonlight shone dully down on the countryside, a few clouds blocking it occasionally. The trickle of a stream became audible, and she stayed to the path as she passed over a foot bridge, and began walking next to a field of tall golden stalks. A ditch ran beside the road, deep enough for someone to be hidden in if crouched. This made her more cautious, and she eyed the road carefully. Something felt, off. This was only reinforced by something on the road ahead, barely visible as a darkened patch in the moonlight. She stopped when she reached it.
There had been a struggle, and blood stained the ground. There was a trail, as if someone quite badly injured had been dragged, leading into the ditch. She quickly followed it, and was rewarded by the discovery of a young man laying there. To say he was beaten up would be an understatement; whoever had attacked him had mean to kill. She eyes the deep wounds with sadness. She had to be too late..... With a soft sigh, she gently touched his arm, where one of the less severe cuts stained his clothes. To her surprise, a soft groan of pain weakly escaped the boys lips.
He was still alive, despite apparently laying here for quite some time. How he had managed to cling to life, she had no idea. What she did know was that he would fade if someone didnt help him now. Without hesitation, she pressed her hands against his chest, and closed her eyes. She began to speak, the murmured words draconic as her hands glowed faintly. The deepest, the injuries that threatened his life the most, began to close. The bleeding slowed, and a few of the smaller ones in the vicinity healed altogether. But before they could all close, her hands drew away. Her brow shone in the faint light, sweat from the exertion of the healing. Her magic might have been strong, but not even she could heal him completely.
She set her satchel down, quickly opening it and pulling out her supplies. The deeper wounds were stitched closed neatly and efficiently, then bandaged with clean linen. The strips of cloth held a mixture of herbs against it, meant to help cleanse and fight infection as well as speed the healing process. She gently lifted the boy, who was still in his teens based on his appearance, and trickled water into his mouth. After helping him drink some water, she had another task to complete. She couldn't leave him here.
Slowly, she walked along, the boy a limp deadweight that she carried to somewhere safer than the ditch. There was little shelter, and after the healing, she couldn't reach the next town. The road was lined by fields, little cover available along it save for a few trees. A short distance away, in the middle of a field, she spied a copse of trees. That would have to do for the time being. By the time she reached it, she was exhausted. She unrolled her bed roll, then looked at the boy. Gently she moved him on top of it, placing him on his back so he wouldn't aggravate many of his injuries. Though worn, she leaned against one of the trees, her sword by her side as she tried to keep watch.
Thankfully, the night brought no attack to them, as within half an hour, she was sound asleep, her dark hair falling down to her shoulder blades, and a few strands into her face. She would remain upright, leaning against the tree as she slept.
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