Private Tales Watch Out For That Tree

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
"Yes it is and we found your things," she replied.

Cat-bird, she sounded out in her head. She supposed that was one way of describing a griffin in their language. It seemed a very simplistic way of doing so.

"The way you're grinning you look like you've had some already," she said, fiddling with the stopper.

Fynaurie patted her jacket until she found a small wooden spoon. It was always worth carrying something to eat with. She didn't want to tip the bottle up over his mouth and end up sending him into a coma.

"Here," she said, holding out a spoon with a few drops on it. "Then try and rest some more!"
 
Asen looked at the spoon and sniffed it, making a face. “Ach love that’s the worst soup I’ve ever smelled. Ain’t likin your marriage chances with that. Got a cute face though.” He snickered, and winced. Gods this arm of his hurt. Walborga nipped at him, and he winced. He was getting beaten up from all sides today!

He reluctantly took the medicine, and swallowed with a gagging sound. Oh stop it, it’ll end the pain for a little while until we get you to a healer. Walborga chastised him, though her voice was a lot gentler this time. She nuzzled him a bit, and looked up to Fynaurie.

How do we get him on the branches? I’ve got them. We just need something to tie them together with.

Fynaurie
 
"Will the poppy stop him making jokes for a while?" Fynaurie asked the griffin rhetorically. Not that she minded the complement.

When she considered it, she realised expecting the griffin to have a full plan regarding the man's treatment was rather silly.

"Erm, let me lash the branches and we'll work something out."

She went and fetched some rope from her bag, glancing down at Vaxor's talons. He could lift a person with ease, but wasn't suited to delicately moving someone with broken ribs.

Once the makeshift stretcher was made, Fynaurie had just one idea. She stood behind Asen's head and leaned down. The branches were behind her.

"Is the poppy working yet?" she asked, taking handfuls of his jacket on at his shoulders. She was going to lift as well as she could and drag him back onto it.
 
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