Private Tales Bones and A Beating Heart

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer

Perrine Urahil

i CaN hEaL hIm !
Character Biography
"Hold still." Perrine ordered through her teeth and patience quickly withdrew from her.

All she needed was one night to herself. That was all she could afford herself, this night where she had nothing seeking her immediate attention. No Initiates to teach outside of lessons, no etiquette classes to teach to disinterested faces, no hailing calls for missions to heal privately or for a whole number of Guard and Dreadlord alike that had seen the thick of the fray.

Perri had one night and she could not bring herself to paint.

So getting drunk seemed the better idea.

"It hurts." Complained the drunken Initiate that single-handedly ruined her night.

Perrine gripped his shoulder a fraction tighter.
"Yes, well, the body does that when someone dislocates their knee. Why the fuck were you kicking chairs in a pub?!" The sudden use of cursing surprised the Initiate, but made no comment on the manners of the Etiquette Proctor. As she spoke, her magic worked slowly. She figured it was a lesson to teach, or could blame that the alcohol in his blood made things difficult, but the Initiate was too drunk to even notice how long it took for Vel Anir's finest healer to fix him.

The boy, grinned like an idiot. "I can do anything!"

Perrine regretted telling the owner she would take care of handling his punishment.

"Ow!" He complained loudly, enough that it garnered looks from other patrons.

"I was supposed to have one night to myself, Initiate. One. Then I hear you and your friends, who I recognised as they bolted out the door and will be making them feel sorry for themselves tomorrow, you and your friends being absolutely shits." She was a Proctor, barely six months, and already she was thinking up ways to make this Initiate truly suffer. But she was not like the other Proctors that remained after the Revolution. She was not like the other Urahils in her family in the way they thought of their country.

With a sigh, Perrine placed his knee back into place with no notice. She settled the cry of pain to be punishment enough.

"Walk it off. Your inebriated state I mean. Your knee is as good as new." She refrained from sighing again. The Initiate tested her word and marveled at her healing. He promptly kicked out his leg, laughing at how the pain was gone and the strength returned. He bid the Proctor a farewell and to enjoy the rest of her night.

Perrine lifted her periwinkle eyes to the barkeep, who caught her gaze and offered her a grim smile. "Wine?"

"No." She dragged herself to a chair, not caring that the table was already claimed by one other. "I want gin."

Val Pirian
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A dark eyebrow quirked upwards, a smirk upon the mien of a man sporting a fine, darkly-colored long coat and clothes much finer than that of the average bar goer beneath. Val Pirian had been the one so fortunate as to already be occupying the table Perrine had decided to squat at, a fact which did not bother him one bit. Quite the opposite in fact.

"Make it two if you will, bartender," Val chimed in, holding two fingers in the air before tossing a gold coin to the man. The barkeep caught the coin and nodded before moving off to pour the two strangers their drinks.

Tonight would have been a relatively quiet and normal one; the son of Lord Pirian liked to frequent many a bar in Vel Anir, regardless of what locale his travels took him. Scoping out what fun there was to be found among the Anirian night life was a favorite pastime of his. While watching some teenager get shitfaced was...curious, it wasn't exactly what he'd think of as good entertainment.

The fiery blond sitting across from him now, however...well, she'd put on quite the show, putting the boy in his place. Val was, of course, no fool either; context implied that this woman was an instructor, likely a proctor. If she was a healing adept that meant she'd only be a low level, but a Dreadlord was a Dreadlord nonetheless. That title garnered admiration.
"You know, there's no need to let an intrusion like that spoil the entire evening," Val began, pausing a moment to nod his thanks to the barkeep as two glasses of gin were placed at the table, ice gently clinking within the glasses. He gingerly picked his up and raised it towards his new acquaintance, smiling.
"Come, why don't we toast to your good night?"
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Perrine's eyes cut to the original occupant at the table, her lips turning at the corners. As the ordered drinks were being poured, it gave her a moment to scan his attire before meeting his gaze once again. Picking up the glass of gin, she saluted the other. "I admire your positive thinking. Afraid my day, week, and month has caused a strain on my motivation for a good night. I will settle for subpar." Keep the expectations low, feign the idea of being spontaneous. It was all ways to make one not truly know or understand Perrine.

With salutations done, Perrine downed her drink, something she advised against to her class of Initiates.

"You see, it has already gone off to a terrible start. I am now here intruding on your lonely night." She turned her head to the side, waiting for the barkeep to catch her attention before smiling at him prettily. "Leave the bottle, if you could be so kind, sir."

And he did. Perrine lifted it and slowly poured herself a fresh glass, perhaps filling it a little more than was standard, but alone or with her new friend, this bottle of gin was not going to waste.

"How about, dreaming of the perfect night, because that is all I will ever have time for. I came back earlier than expected from a mission and I skipped returning to the Academy..." And in her smile lied the tones of bitterness that seeped into her. Perrine was always about how she looked, how she represented herself to others. One night she just wanted to not exist as Perrine Urahil, or Proctor. Dreadlord was another bitter taste in her mouth.

Val Pirian
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Val waved a dismissive hand, drinking casually from his glass post-toast.
"Think nothing of it. By any stretch, your very presence has lightened my night quite splendidly," he replied, smiling warmly at the barkeep as he deposited the remaining liquor with the two strangers. Val followed suit, topping off his drink before returning to conversation.

"What's life without a little shirking of responsibility every once in a good while? More power to you, I say," he smiled before sipping deep from his cup and releasing a long, sharp exhalation. "The night is young, my lovely. We may not find your ideal night, but we can at least raise it a few notches from 'subpar,' I should think."

Down as the woman might've been, Val was already determined to turn her dour mood around. He swirled the ice in his glass a moment before tapping his temple with his index finger.
"Ah, but where are my manners? My name is Val. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss...?"
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His ability to parry with her words left an amused smile on her lips. Conversation, proper stimulating conversation, was always seen as worthy in her eyes. There was no doubt that the man was of noble upbringing, or perhaps a family in rich tradings as the garb he adorned was made of the finest materials her own family's money could afford. Perrine would love nothing more to be dressed in her fashionable dresses and expensive cloaks, to hear the clack of her heeled shoes or boots as she walked the cobbled streets.
Her duty as a Dreadlord and healer meant she was wearing dark gear, not quite the leathers some Dreadlords preferred to fight in, but something that identified her as just a healer. The uniform was different than those that called themselves medics.

"The night is young, my lovely."
Perri took a light swig of her cooled gin, watching him over the rim of the glass. "We may not find your ideal night, but we can at least raise it a few notches from 'subpar,' I should think."

"I will admit that speaking with you has certainly made the idea of this night a lot better." Drinking with someone else was a lot better than drinking alone, the latter being something that happened occasionally. Her roles as Dreadlord and Proctor had her surrounded with people day in and day out, and the last thing she wanted when she had a moment alone to herself was to be in the company of another.

Hearing the introduction of his name brought a wicked grin to her face.

"Perrine Urahil." With her glass set down, her hand went to be offered for a shake. "Proctor at the Academy, and Dreadlord of the Fourth Rank. A healer." How often did her rank and family name cause many others to look at her oddly, wondering how a powerful name like Urahil resulted in something as lowly as Fourth Rank. With what else she could do, Perrine easily could be a Third Rank, but that sort of promotion came with other sets of responsibilty she was not interested in. "And the pleasure is all mine, Val."
A coy smile had been on Val's mien as he conversed with his beautiful new drinking companion, especially as she'd received him warmly thus far. As she introduced herself, however, he was taken aback, brows raising in mild surprise. Her excited expression only served to increase that sensation.

"Well, my Lady," Val returned, taking her hand and lightly kissing the back of it rather than offering her a simple shake. "I feel I must reintroduce myself. I had not realized I was in the presence of nobility."

He let her hand back down and offered a polite bow of his head.
"Percival 'Val' Pirian of House Pirian, son of Lord Tobias Pirian. Unfortunately I have no other prestigious titles to pair alongside," he said, taking another sip from his gin. His curiosity had been thoroughly piqued now. "Tell me, Perrine, what brings you to such a quaint little tavern such as this?"
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As his lips pressed to her ungloved hands, she felt a momentary heartbeat that was not her own. Her magic's intuition to the inner workings of one's body revealed what most could hide. Those that could withstand pain, Perrine could sense it. Those that felt sick, Perrine could figure how to make them feel better. In order to get a fair assessment, she used her hands to wield her healing magic.

Despite the awareness of his steady heart rate, Perrine slowly withdrew her hand and used it to place her cheek there to rest, elbow on the table. That was something she lectured against in her etiquette classes.

"Pirian." Amusement took the curves of her lips into a grin. "My, my. Two nobles in this establishment?" It certainly would be a joke a commoner would make. She chuckled, shrugging the shoulder that was not leaning on her elbow. "All my usual haunts are rife with insufferable Initiates. Did not seem... appropriate to get a drink when there are Initates that outwardly hate your mandatory classes." That thought deserved another swig of her glass.

"Now, tell me, Val Pirian. What brings the likes of your to such an establishment?" A dark blonde brow quirked in question.
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It was a curious coincidence, that much was to be sure. He smiled, chuckled back, and lifted his cup to the mention.
"A fine a reason as any, I should say. Though I should say, it always surprises me to hear the initiates are allowed to drink so young. My father would've had my head if he'd caught me at a bar during my formative years," Val spoke, punctuating the statement with another swig of gin.

"As for myself...just seeing what's in the area, I suppose. I like to see what passes for entertainment for the average Anirian, you know? That, or..." he dramatically placed one hand over his heart, elbow out, and raised his glass high in a flourish. "Perhaps destiny called me here, knowing I might stumble into you, my Lady!"

The Pirian noble could only hold a serious face for but a moment before *snrrk*-ing under the weight of his own antics.
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"I like to not pull them up for their antics if I see any of them outside the Academy. They shit bricks when they realise it is me, and once I am at the Academy and their Proctor, then I play the card of writing them up or getting them to suffer and participate in etiquette class." She smiled sweetly, having enjoyed this method. She was by far the least bit of frightening when it came to Proctors in history, but the threat of her reporting an Initiate had them wondering who would be responsible for their punishment.

Her smile only grew larger after his bold declaration of destiny. Many patrons turned to look their way, losing interest after seeing the finery Val had worn and thought it best not to get tangled into the affairs of the nobles.

"Would it not be my destiny seeing as I am the one to chance upon your lonely table?" Perri put forth, raising a single brow as she regarded him with a subtle smirk. "After all, I could be a true inconvenience on your night when this bottle finishes and I have to make my way back to the Academy. Have to beat those Initiates back before they drunkenly stumble their way to their dorms." But she was suddenly not so keen to rush back, not when she could be without responsibility until the next day.

Val Pirian
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"Positively devious," Val replied with a smirk of his own. Etiquette class? Evangeline might've liked this woman, but she was substantially more fun than Eva was. It wasn't often that Val encountered someone so readily willing to engage with his mischief.

"Ahh, a shared destiny then. One that lies at the bottom of that very bottle. Our fates are intertwined, my dear!" he said, waving his fingers mystically at Perrine. "And I shall have you know that any act is only an inconvenience if one allows it to be. I believe I would quite enjoy a little drunken stumble of our own, wherever that may take us."

As if to make his point, Val snagged the bottle and refilled his glass, side-eyeing Perrine with all the lark of a fae.
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Perrine slid her own glass for him to refill, mischief and amusement pulling at the corner of her lips. "Oh? And what will we do, Val Pirian? Take to the streets of Vel Anir and drunkenly sing for all to hear?"

She was not one for such attention of the public, but Perri could not refuse the idea of being along for the ride of such stumbling. "I supposed if we do stumble, it would be towards the Academy. I think we would make good time. It is about a day's travel, hm?" Her fingers would drum against her glass, the ice melting in the warm tavern.

"Shame these bottles are not a little larger... we could purchase another or perhaps switch to other poison." The Healer tried to stifle her smile, failing miserably in the wake of the Pirian's amusing countenance.

Val Pirian
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Val swirled the contents of his glass in front of his face for a moment as if pondering whether or not he was about to take another drink. There was, of course, no question.
"Whatever takes our fancy, Perrine Urahil," he replied at last before sipping down a fresh swig of gin. "Singing is the heart's way of releasing its merriment, I hear. Very therapeutic."

He hummed at her suggestion.
"A day by way of stumbling, certainly. A day to get to know each other. Or a few hours by carriage, I should think. Whichever you should prefer. And speaking of preference..."

The Pirian heir turned and waved at the bartender, flicking his fingers and causing four more shiny coins to appear between them.
"I do believe a bottle of Reid's Royale Rum is in order, if you please!" The stuff was notorious for its high alcohol content. Val cast a glance at Perrine as if to ask for permission. "That is, if it suits the lady."
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Perrine could not help but be impressed by his suggestion, grinning as there seemed to be no way she was ending this night sober or even just a little buzzed. "The lady is happy with the selection." Perrine gathered her brilliant blonde mane and let it drop against her back, preparing herself for their new beverage. She had wonderful memories, or at least vague memories, of drinking Reid's Royale Rum in her days before becoming a Dreadlord. It was possibly the only drink she could not clear from her own blood fast enough.

"You know, enough drinks in me and I may please your ears to songs sung by yours truly." Here, stumbling back to the Academy, or by carriage. Perri knew she would not be stopped once she began. "I bet my father was glad I was such a fantastic child that took well to the pianoforte, song, and every other etiquette requirement. How I wish the Initiates could behave so splendidly." She winced, "Oh. I should really not talk about my work. No talk of being a Proctor, and no talk about being a Healer! Will you, Val Pirian, keep me to my word?"

Periwinkle eyes held his gaze, a challenge sitting there in those hues. Their new bottle of choice was placed on the table between them, two new glasses set as the old ones were taken away with the empty gin bottle. "I cannot do it alone." She smirked.

Val Pirian
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"Splendid," Val said back with a wink, pouring fresh liquor into the clean glasses for the both of them. The Pirian noble passed Perrine hers, sliding the glass across the table with all the expertise of a true, veteran lush.

"My, my! A vocalist, then? Never had much talent for it, myself, though I do have a knack for recalling the words, even in the deepest depths of intoxication. I must say, I'm excited to hear a proper songstress tonight," Val teased before taking a drink from his own glass and letting our a sharp hiss. Reid's had a way of immediately, violently clearing the sinuses that was distinctly unique to the brew. Once the initial rush had passed, Val looked up to meet Perrine's gaze, detecting that determination with just a hint of mischief.

"By all means, Perrine Urahil, I shall hold you to it; a solemn vow, that you shall not speak of such droll things as work this evening. Tonight shall be for one thing, and one thing only: forgetting our woes in the warm embrace of merriment!"

A glimmer shone in Val's eyes as he raised his glass to the platinum blond across from her. Internally he thanked whatever gods had been so generous as to bless him with such keen luck.
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Perrine awarded Val with a charming smile, downing her drink after clinking it with his raised glass. Her hand set down the empty glass, but her face remained going through the motions of burn that the drink was known to give. It was a kick, one she had not felt in so long. "Oh, how could something be so good but bad all the same?" Perrine casted her sorry eyes up to Val's, feeling a little out of her depth when he had handled it better than her.

"Another." She insisted, pouring them both a new round.

"Right. Let us get right to it. Noble son of a Lord... A Pirian, so no doubt you have been subjected to many ladies..." She grinned. Perri was glad her father was uninterested in the hassle of going through the wretched marriage mart on her behalf, and so it has given her freedoms that those of more import in the family could ever fathom. "You must come to these parts of Vel Anir often to hide from much."

Just as Perrine had come here to be away from her responsibility.
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Val chuckled, knowing well the burning duality of a good, stiff drink.
"I have heard that said of me once or twice, yes," he said with another laugh. He quirked a brow when she immediately poured another round. A bit of a lush herself, it seemed. "Of course, but do pace yourself; it's eighty percent pure."

The Pirian noble downed his next shot, groaned, twisted his head for a moment, then sighed his relief as the sensation passed.
"A gentleman never kisses and tells, my dear. It's in poor taste," he smugged at her, pushing his glass onto its edge and rotating it around atop the table with a finger. "I have little to hide these days, Lady Urahil. I simply know what I enjoy, and I like to enjoy it whenever it so finds me."

Val cocked his head at the blond, still sporting the same air of self-satisfied confidence.
"Why so curious?"
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There were many things Perrine was not, and cocky being one of them. The fact this drink brought that out in her did not faze her immediately, but after Val laughed at her words, she was grinning rather widely. "Oh, this will not do too much to me." But already, her magic felt odd, displaced. While it ran enough to change her blood intoxication levels, it seemed she finally met a drink that she could not relieve from her system quick enough.

Another glass poured, for herself.

"While a noble daughter, I often feel as if I am separate from the noble life. I was brought up like one, educated in everything fine thing a good lady should, and as soon as it was noted I was a Healer, I was shipped off to the Academy. Us Urahils are brought up to be the best, and so I showed off the healing I could do, enough I was given special pardons to graduate early and immediately sent to the front lines at sixteen." And what she had seen in that time deserved another shot of the potent elixir.

Perrine grimaced, shoving her glass to the space between them on the table.
"What I am trying to say is that after all this, what good traditional family would want a Dreadlord for a daughter? A Healer. The lowest of them all." She too pushed the bottle away from herself as a way to show she would abstain, but the bottle and glass were still within arm's reach. A ruse.

"I ask, because it is different for a nobleman. No need to kiss and tell, I have a good imagination." She chuckled before quickly wincing. "Oh... I spoke about work." She had two of them, and little to no life outside of either. This would be difficult...
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This wouldn't do too much to her? A greater lie had never been told. Val joined her in pouring a fresh glass regardless. He would not be left behind on her journey into Vel Blackout.

"Curious," Val replied as she shared her tale. "My experience being a magically inclined noble-child was very different."

It was, such that as she regaled him he came to have an appreciation for his parents' handling of the situation. He couldn't help but share in the sadness Perrine was now feeling for herself. He drank his shot and cleared his throat.
"I am afraid I did not have much chance to stop you, yet I am loathe to break my oath so quickly after making it. Even so..." he poured both of them a new shot with the "rejected" bottle, and glossed over her comment about "imagination" for now. "I see before me a beautiful, intelligent, and rather charming woman who is shouldering a great and worthy burden. Any family that would not want you would be unworthy to have you, Miss Perrine."
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Perrine stared at him, small smile pulling at her lips as he complimented her and her worth. Not many had said that to her without calling her own House to be part of her identity. He had spoken of her alone. She took the next shot slowly, setting it down before her and drumming her fingertips against the wooden surface.

"Did you say..." She started slowly, eyes trained on her empty glass as she thought and recalled. "that you were magically inclined?" Her periwinkle eyes snapped upwards, bearing into his own gaze. It was a rather curious thing to be hung up on when he had called her beautiful and charming, but Perrine was surprised.

"You evaded attending the Academy then?" Just like she had for years before her father decided he needed her gone.
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Ah. That sort of thing was supposed to be a secret, wasn't it? No, wait. It used to be. Revolution and all that. Goodness, the alcohol was finally catching up to Val now, and all at once, no less.

Val payed no mind to the change in conversation; he'd gotten a smile out of Perrine and that was enough.
"Mmm, mmyes. And no, not exactly. Well yes, but no. I should explain," Val waggled a finger in the air in an attempt at appearing thoughtful. "Turns out, most noble families have quite a good number of latently magical proneg--prongen--erm, progeny. Apologies. Turns out that the Anirian Houses have never been keen on sending their heirs off to become property of the state, or at least it used to be considered somehow a sign of low standing in the Old Ways. Now of course it's...well, the opposite."

He blinked, realizing he'd gotten quite a bit off topic. He chuckled.
"Anyways, to make a long story short, t'was my parents that did the evading for me. All I had to do was keep quiet and let my abilities atrophy. I, being the impudent boy that I was and being quite frustrated that I did not inherit the Pirian bloodline magic from my father, ignored the latter part and cultivated my magic in secret..." he trailed off. Perhaps this was a bit of an overshare. For the first time so far he actually looked a bit sheepish about it, scratching his cheek with a finger. "I'm...not very good at it, regardless."
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Amusement was brought to her face as she watched Val move and give a brief recall of the history she knew well. Perrine dared not to interrupt him to inform him so, finding him being chatty to be rather entertaining. Another smile was fought at her lips as she poured them each a new shot.

She had been no heir, but was protected for her very valuable position of securing alliances or loyalty with other Houses. Until it was realised she was an only child, several places way from becoming an heir. She was a spare, like her father. But she did not regret the short lived freedoms of traveling the territories.

"I, too, did not want to be powerless when given something only I can wield." Perrine lightly swirled her glass before dipping a finger onto the surface and running the liquid around the rim. "I learned to heal almost anything. If there was a sign of life still there, I found it. I read books on the anatomy and practiced on myself." But she had healed the scars that would have proven her research. "What most do not know, is that I am not just a Healer."

That was not the true nature of her magic.

"There was an additional factor of me being sent to the Academy, to hone this other side."
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Something clicked in Val's brain at Perrine's words, despite his inebriation. His eyes flashed and he leaned forward, resting elbows on the table, folding his hands together, and resting his chin atop the backs of his hands. A desire to understand, indicative of his ability's own desire to, filled him.

"Go on," he said, interest genuinely piqued.
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Perrine leaned as close as she could, holding his gaze with rapt attention. A smile betrayed her, and she let out a light chuckle.

"Only if you tell me what nature your magic takes." Her smile turned wicked, smug, as if she held such power and standing. It was the alcohol giving her such confidence to dangle information before this new acquaintance.
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Vested interest broke into a chuckle as the focus drained from Val's eyes for the moment.
"What nature my magic takes? It takes..." Val looked around the room, noting an entertainer at the back of the room who had been using magic to make several ethereal instruments play a jaunty tune. He pointed at the bard. "Hers."

Val held a finger up and a small, ghostly fiddle appeared and played along for a moment before dispersing back into the ether. The bard looked momentarily confused, looking about for the source of the momentary addition to the ensemble.

The Pirian man looked around once more and took note of the bartender, who he'd seen grab hold of a glass earlier and drop its temperature so quickly that the air had fogged around it. Val pointed once more.
"Or his," he stated before wrapping his fingers around a water glass, then upturning it to show the now frozen contents. "Or, if I figure out how it works..."

He eyed Perrine and pointed a finger at her, a devil's own mischief dancing across every aspect of his expression.
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It was Perrine's turn to turn invested, catching on to every word he spoke as he demonstrated the skills he inherited within his magic. The addition of an instrument, come and gone. The still frozen glass of water, that she reached out for to touch and chewed at her cheek in curiosity.

"Or, if I figure out how it works..."

Perrine lifted her gaze to meet his finger pointed to her, and a chill swept her colder than the frozen glass at her hand.


To the Urahil, it was a challenge. "Give me your hands." She asked, offering her own for him. "Most Healers see a wound and heal it. I however, delve deeper." Once his hands were in her own, she tightened her hold on them, feeling for that heartbeat. "I learned to know every nerve, every vein. I learned reactions, the movement of muscles." Perrine triggered Val's hands to tingle, fingers twitching in one hand. "My magic is a manipulation, and I learned to heal with it. But I can also do harm." She turned over her right hand, to show the light scratch there that ran to her wrist, small beads of blood giving it colour.

"I can make us match, if you wanted?" She asked sweetly, smiling.
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