skill: healer 1/5 [BWP]

He was no fighter - he was not one built for combat, like his brother Laurent and he wasn't particularly huge enough to withstand larger attacks like Lotte might have. Instead, he'd only been fueled by the thoughts of Fable and of the girls. In place of letting any sort of harm fall to them, he would push on and if need be he'd sacrifice himself. He heard her but could only spare her a glance before one of the wraith's had clamped down on his shoulder. He cried out in frustration, but it made him fight back even harder. It was easy to ignore the feeling when he kept his focus after all.

The battle ended, finally, and the relief was staggering.

Foxglove took a ragged, heavy breath. He was still panting, he had some superficial wounds, but overall he was okay. Immediately his eyes sought Fable, her blushed tones, and her familiar scent of home she'd been in his periphery the entire time. He had to smile a bit, to laugh, as the world around them seemed to let loose a breath held far too long. He heard something else too - a howl far off that he thought might have been Aisling and immediately he howled out in response to her a tule kotiin. Before he'd finished calling to their lost daughter, the world at large rose up in a chorus unlike anything that Foxglove had ever seen. With it, the first sky that Mythris had seen in what felt like a year was visible between the breaking of the clouds. He had never seen purples or pinks in the sky as beautiful as what he saw slowly emerging.

And then it happened all at once.