15min fic #113
Oct. 30th, 2005 08:10 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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yrae
Title~ Blank
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ Still~ mine.
Notes~ 15 minute fic, word #113. Some time before Yamin's head healer.
~ ~ ~
Yamin stepped out of the small side room, drew its curtain and rested her back against the wall beside it. She hugged herself weakly and fixed her pale blue gaze on the floor of the healing house, fingers kneading at the fabric of her dress to try and quell the pain that lanced though them.
A pair of feet interrupted her view of the floor, and she looked up into the sympathetic eyes of her friend and mentor.
“Yamin,” Nanuka said soothingly, “We can’t save everyone. You’ve done your best. It’s amazing she’s lived as long as she has.”
The young healer nodded and glanced back at the canvas door. The woman in that room could hardly be called alive. The blank look in her eyes was imprinted in the back of Yamin’s mind, and would be for years to come if she couldn’t do something.
She traced her finger around the glittering blue yrae stone in her bangle, then set her brow in a frown of determination.
“Yamin, what are you doing?”
But the healer was gone, back behind the fluttering curtain of the side room.
She raked her fingers through her hair and took a deep, resolute breath before stepping deliberately towards the near-dead figure lying on the bed. Only the keenest eye could see the faint rise and fall of the woman’s chest every five or six seconds. Her skin was blotched purple, red and an unhealthy yellow. There was a huge, glossy red swelling on her forearm, the size of a small coconut and with two puncture marks that told of the cause of the woman’s illness, but it was the eyes that truly scared Yamin.
She wrung her hands again at the sight of the dead, yellowed eyes, clouded over with thrai venom, then frowned in steely determination and took the swollen arm gently in her fingers. This time, she would live.
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ Still~ mine.
Notes~ 15 minute fic, word #113. Some time before Yamin's head healer.
Yamin stepped out of the small side room, drew its curtain and rested her back against the wall beside it. She hugged herself weakly and fixed her pale blue gaze on the floor of the healing house, fingers kneading at the fabric of her dress to try and quell the pain that lanced though them.
A pair of feet interrupted her view of the floor, and she looked up into the sympathetic eyes of her friend and mentor.
“Yamin,” Nanuka said soothingly, “We can’t save everyone. You’ve done your best. It’s amazing she’s lived as long as she has.”
The young healer nodded and glanced back at the canvas door. The woman in that room could hardly be called alive. The blank look in her eyes was imprinted in the back of Yamin’s mind, and would be for years to come if she couldn’t do something.
She traced her finger around the glittering blue yrae stone in her bangle, then set her brow in a frown of determination.
“Yamin, what are you doing?”
But the healer was gone, back behind the fluttering curtain of the side room.
She raked her fingers through her hair and took a deep, resolute breath before stepping deliberately towards the near-dead figure lying on the bed. Only the keenest eye could see the faint rise and fall of the woman’s chest every five or six seconds. Her skin was blotched purple, red and an unhealthy yellow. There was a huge, glossy red swelling on her forearm, the size of a small coconut and with two puncture marks that told of the cause of the woman’s illness, but it was the eyes that truly scared Yamin.
She wrung her hands again at the sight of the dead, yellowed eyes, clouded over with thrai venom, then frowned in steely determination and took the swollen arm gently in her fingers. This time, she would live.