[Today there is a Liberator dragging his sorry self back into the village, and cursing the Malnosso for dumping him on the opposite end of the village from his destination. He doesn't look too bad for returning from a kidnapping, although he's bruised his lip somehow and his white shirt appears to be stuck to his chest by little spots of dried
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Sigmund.
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Way to be insistent, Svala. Fine, you want him to take his shirt off so you can see his tiny insignificant needle-prick scratches, he'll take his shirt off. And when he can't look you in the eye for a week, it's your fault.]
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Sigmund.
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[He's apparently suffering from a few dozen little needle mark, generally within the lines of his lunaglyph. There. Goodbye, stupid white shirt. You caused him entirely too much trouble.]
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...oh heck. They're along his lunaglyph. That scares her.]
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Yup; it's a little strange, it's almost as if he has two souls but not really. But she does sense a lot more Volsung than usual, and it makes her heart ache for a little bit before she drops her hand.]
...would you prefer I not attempt to heal you?
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If you think it unwise...
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But I will make my best effort.
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She only nods in response and holds her hand above his lunaglyph, performing the gestures necessary to heal. Hopefully it'll work.]
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There. See? Mama, please don't worry.]
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Damn. She'll drop her hands back to her lap, then.] You must be tired.
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No, not at all. [Except for that part where he's lying. A little.]
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