She watches as the prince leans down to kiss the angel and she opens her mouth to tell him that isn't strictly necessary, but stops herself as she studies the soft, almost concerned look played out over his features.
'Oh,' the witch thinks,
'They're lovers. That's why he was so prickly earlier.' A demon and and angel.,.it was terribly romantic, wasn't it? She'd be sure to knock a little off the price when they got back to the shop.
She was a sucker for a good love story.
“Naya,” the witch replied hoarsely when the demon offered his hand, clearing her throat as she wiped her bloodied hand clean on her pants before grasping his in a firm handshake.
Well, she had intended for it to be firm, but given how exhausted she was right now it might have come across as a little weak. The brunette chose not to dwell on it at the moment. “And let's not talk about payment until after she regains consciousness and we get that wing seen too,” Naya suggests, letting go of his hand.
Naya only charged for successful spells, after all, and even though the witch had given the little angel everything she needed to survive, only time would tell if the ginger woman would ever open her eyes again.
The brunette leans forward again, listening closely to the other’s breathing. It was much less labored now and had lost the visceral, gurgling tone it had just moments earlier. Naya lets out a sigh of relief. “I may have mended her bones, but it's your blood that repaired her organs,” she tells the prince, not looking away from the gentle rise and fall of the angel’s chest. "The runes I drew just helped show it the way. I wouldn't have been able to fix her without you, since I didn't have all of the ingredients.”
“I wouldn't worry too much about the side effects of your blood, prince,” Naya reassures, straightening up and pulling her flask from her satchel. “She might feel queasy when she comes to, but that's better than being a corpse, isn't it? It may even help her tolerate being on this side of the border for longer.”
Naya uncorks the top of the container and dumps a generous amount of whisky onto the fresh cut that now adorns her forearm, gritting her teeth hard to keep from hissing. Once she feels that it is properly disinfected Naya tears a piece of her scarf and wraps the wound up tight. “Right, we should get moving soon,” She says, using her spear as leverage to pull herself up. Her whole body protests, and the witch feels breath takingly dizzy, but they didn't have time for dilly dallying.
Even with a seasoned warrior like the crown prince escorting her, Naya did not want to be in the Deathwood after dark. It was a known werewolf hunting ground.
“...I guess you may keep my coat for now, man beast,” Naya tells the still nude man, having mercy on him even though the trek back to Ashgrave Aromatics would be hateful without proper protection against the cold. “We’ll talk about your payment when we get back to the shop as well.”
After all, she didn't give out freebies.
“What should we call you?”
@Sarcelle Renard @Ace of flames01@Soufflegirl123
Bozo
Apollosarcher