Snippet #1503566

Talae found herself covered in dragon-bile, but even that wasn’t enough to stop the tiniest of smiles at the appearance of the army proper. They’d held out long enough. It hadn’t been pretty, and she really needed to find Kisikoni, because she could have sworn he was drawing Children off the rest of them and that can’t have been easy, but honestly other than that, she was pretty damn satisfied at the moment. Note to self: poison works on dragons.

Of course, that didn’t mean things were in the clear quite yet. Removing a different flask, she tugged the cork out with her teeth and took a swallow. Antidote, else even the amount of poison in diluted dragon-vomit would make her sick for a few hours. She took a swallow and glanced over to both Sarish and Duran. “You didn’t get any bile in an open wound did you? If so, drink some of this.” She offered the flask to each on turn before spotting a group over against the wall of one battlement tower.

It contained neither her sister nor her partner, though, and so she left it for the time being. It was hard to judge where anyone was, given all the other Legionnaires rushing past. Still, she managed to slip through enough of them to finally spot the deep human she was looking for. He didn’t look injured, but more like he’d run for far too long- completely exhausted. Perhaps a healer had gotten to him already? The vestiges of a smirk vanished, and Talae sighed.

“I seem to be doing a poor job being a partner,” she observed flatly, not really sure what else to say. He was clearly going to be fine now, even if that might not have been the case earlier. “I’m sorry.” She was not exactly certain what his strategy had been or even what had happened, but she did know that she had lost track of him at some stage, and that this was something she should not have done.

At last replacing the blade into the sheath strapped to her back, she grimaced at how this caused her abdominal wound to pull. It might not be in any more danger from her own poison, but that didn’t mean it didn’t sting like hell, and was still bleeding freely to boot. She should find Fae and see about getting it healed up. Pel was likely to be busy with people far more injured than she, and frankly she was glad of the sheer number of people that had been engaging the dragon, else she would likely be dead at the moment.

She covered the remaining- short- distance between herself and the others, her sister included, giving the general a small salute.

---

Alistair was buffeted hard by the dragon, and thrown off-balance when his spear hit much harder scales than it had been aimed at. His descent was rapid, and worse, backwards. He hit the battlements hard, and at a slight angle, and his breath left him in a great gust. He barely noticed, though, past the pain as several of the bones in his right wing shattered. His vision exploded with red sparks, and for a moment, he had to struggle to keep conscious.

It was several minutes before he could move, and he counted himself fortunate that the army had chosen that moment to arrive. The prone harpy was largely ignored as what few Children remained this close to the edge of the battle were swiftly overwhelmed by their fresh opponents.

With great difficulty, Alistair hauled himself to his feet, talons not finding purchase so easily on the smooth stone of the wall he walked on. It was with much awkwardness and little finesse that he progressed to the place where most of the others seemed to be gathering. His mangled wing stuck out at an odd angle, drooping against his back for the most part.

It was more than a physical wound for someone like him: his wings had ever been rather symbolic of his entire person. Without them, he was little more than a mal-formed human, largely useless for ground-bound movement. Like any other bird, the bones there were hollow, and so he knew that they had likely broken in several places, and it would not be a terribly easy fix.

He approached the largest group, presently laughing, no doubt at something Beelzes had said. His face made no betrayal of the excruciating pain he was in, but it would take Qinn or Achiru only one look to guess. “Pardon me,” he asked, voice slightly shakier than he would have liked. “But can anyone point me in the direction of a healer?”