[center][h3][color=7bcdc8]The Next Morning[/color][/h3][/center][hr]
There was a naked man on the edge of the Deathwood Forest.

Naya, who had traveled this far with the intention of collecting fresh burdock for a morning sickness brew she was working on for the butcher’s wife, had not fully been expecting to happen upon such a site. She blinks once, then again, then a third to be sure, but the image remains unchanged. [color=7bcdc8]“Curious,”[/color] she murmurs, her breath coming out in a white fog as she unshouldered her bag and let it drop to the ground before pulling her spear free from where it was strapped to her back. [color=7bcdc8]“Man beast, are you dead?”[/color] she calls, poking at his thigh with the hilt of her weapon.

The naked man thing does not respond. Curious indeed.

The witch takes a step closer, crouching down and gently prodding at the stranger’s lips so she could get a good look at his teeth. Naya does not find any fangs, so it is safe to assume the creature is not a vampire. A fellow human then? Maybe the poor beast had one too many ales and had tried to stumble home but ended up in the Deathwood instead? That didn’t really explain why he was nude though…

Regardless, she couldn’t very well leave him. He was smack dab in the middle of the burdock thicket and his corpse would attract all sorts of nasty predators that wouldn't hesitate to trample all over the delicate plants.

[color=7bcdc8]“Man beast,”[/color] Naya says again, reaching forward with a gloved hand to give his cheek a couple of firm pats. The man thing grunts, but does not awaken. [color=7bcdc8]“Which side of the border do you belong on, friend?”[/color] She asks, reaching forward and peeling open his eyelids. His irises are a lovely shade of chestnut. [color=7bcdc8]“You will catch your death out here, stranger,”[/color] the witch warns, pulling her hand back to give his face another series of taps, each one a little harder than the last.

The naked man thing refuses to respond yet again. Now he’s just being contrary. 

With a sigh Naya lowers her spear, quickly peeling off her black coat and covering him as best she can, but with his front pressed against the freezing earth like it was he was still in danger of hypothermia. Even humans who lived on this side of the border where not completely immune to the harsh conditions of this world. [i]’We humans really are such delicate things,’[/i] she muses as she sifts through her bag, sorting through herbs and potions in search of her smelling salts. [i]’Tedious.’[/i]

Eventually the brunette woman finds what she was looking for, pulling the tiny flask free. She uncorks the top, her nose scrunching up as the potent smell of salt, lavender, and ammonia fill the air.[color=7bcdc8] “Wake up, stranger. I can’t spare my coat for much longer,”[/color] she urges, waving the flask right under his nose and shivering as a frigid wind sweeps past them. Even wearing gloves and a thick sweater, the witch’s teeth were already beginning to clatter together audibly. 

Still no response. Was he dead?

Naya peels a glove off and reaches under the coat, pressing two fingers against his neck and feeling for a pulse. It thrummed away under her fingertips and the alchemist could see the blades of grass close to his mouth shifting with each exhale. Not dead then. The lithe woman places the smelling salts on the ground directly in front of him and gets up, stomping off deeper into the thicket in search of something. 

She comes back with an armful of fallen tree branches that have dried out and as much club moss as she can feasibly carry. Naya typically used the plant to treat scurvy and dysentery, but it was also known to some of the older folk as, ‘vegetable sulfur’ because of it’s highly flammable stalks. She arranges the pile of wood and makes a little nest of kindling sticks and moss before pulling out the bit of flint she’d retrieved from her satchel earlier and dragging her dagger over in quick jerks.

By the time she actually gets a spark the witch can’t feel her fingers. The woman leans down and blows over the tinder, sighing in relief when she sees a miniscule bit of smoke and the delicate glow of a flame. Naya transfers it quickly to her wood pile and nurses the blaze until takes root and becomes an actual fire. The heat of it was blissful, but the witch doesn’t stop to appreciate it, instead marching back over to the stranger and dragging him close to the bonfire. He’s heavier than he looks and by the time she is done the woman is panting slightly from the exertion. [color=7bcdc8]“More trouble than you're worth,”[/color] she grumbles, re-covering him with her coat and going to retrieve her smelling salts, satchel, and spear. Naya returns, pulling her gloves back on and huddling close to the fire, waiting for the man beast to wake up and the feeling to come back into her fingertips. 

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[hider=Naya's Coat]
[img]https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/50/48/8e/50488e1e25b3e7061a86291e3a4decc7.jpg[/img]
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[@SouffleGirl123]