It’s Sunday! And I actually have the day off, so I might get comments posted before the end of the week for a change.
Marlia was badly injured and mostly unconscious, but her unicorn (Justice) carried her to safety, taking her to the campsite of another Elven traveler in the Human Realms: Pashevel. She wakes, confused.
Marlia woke to find her arms restrained: panic gripped her and she thrashed wildly as she tried to free herself, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she struggled.
“Easy,” someone said, a tinge of amusement running through his warm soothing voice. “You might not want to throw off all of the blankets that are covering you.”
She froze at the sound and slowly turned her head to look at him. His dark blue eyes held both humor and compassion, and a soft smile played over his full lips while a silver circlet tried –and failed – to restrain his thick black hair: He had a slender graceful build and there was an air of gentleness about him that said that he was no threat to her, or anyone else.
“Who are you?” she asked, trying to sit up.
“Lie still,” he said, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. “You’ve had a rough night and you don’t need to be breaking open any wounds.”
Involuntarily she jerked away from his touch and clutched at the blanket as it slipped from her torso. “My clothes! What have you done?”
“I treated your wounds as best I could,” he said quietly. “Unfortunately your blouse did not survive.” His lips twitched with humor as he nodded toward the pile of blood-soaked white silk that lay next to her.