[he really doesn't like people to see his face, she thinks, if he can just strip the clothing with a thought but keeps that glaring eyeless mask on. It reminds her of a trophy helmet she's seen. The expanse of stained white silk - so much! - is more startling to her than the injuries themselves, even considering that it seems they're already starting to heal.
Wow, that alcohol smells awful, a bit like strong spirits but even harsher, intensely bitter. Nyara blinks a lot and tries to huff the stink back out of her sensitive nose, and does not gag or back away. Need, who knows everything, mutters an explanation for her. It kills disease and prevents infection? That would kill anything! The only mercy is how much of the smell evaporates quickly!
Need thinks it's a good idea for her to try it too, so with a look of dismay she puts some of the reeking, cold fluid on her own palms and when prompted rubs them together. Ugh. Ugh ugh ugh. The things she does just because she's told! She does not anoint her claws, they will just slide back into their folds of skin and any virtue of this quick-fading poison will be gone.]
I am going to touch you.
[In case he's going to startle or something. Nyara lays a careful hand on an exposed part of his back, covering a red wheal. The pads on her fingers and at the front of her palm are softer and more sensitive than than those of something that walks on such pads. With the direct contact she can feel him better, even more so than through clothing, and can start to tug on the aura of pain, taking some of it on herself.
:You don't have to do that,: Need complains. :I'm the Healer here. You don't have to hurt yourself.:
I want to, she argues back, even as she sets her jaw against the feeling. I want to feel like I do something.]
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Wow, that alcohol smells awful, a bit like strong spirits but even harsher, intensely bitter. Nyara blinks a lot and tries to huff the stink back out of her sensitive nose, and does not gag or back away. Need, who knows everything, mutters an explanation for her. It kills disease and prevents infection? That would kill anything! The only mercy is how much of the smell evaporates quickly!
Need thinks it's a good idea for her to try it too, so with a look of dismay she puts some of the reeking, cold fluid on her own palms and when prompted rubs them together. Ugh. Ugh ugh ugh. The things she does just because she's told! She does not anoint her claws, they will just slide back into their folds of skin and any virtue of this quick-fading poison will be gone.]
I am going to touch you.
[In case he's going to startle or something. Nyara lays a careful hand on an exposed part of his back, covering a red wheal. The pads on her fingers and at the front of her palm are softer and more sensitive than than those of something that walks on such pads. With the direct contact she can feel him better, even more so than through clothing, and can start to tug on the aura of pain, taking some of it on herself.
:You don't have to do that,: Need complains. :I'm the Healer here. You don't have to hurt yourself.:
I want to, she argues back, even as she sets her jaw against the feeling. I want to feel like I do something.]