Arabella half heard Clare speaking. Something about getting dirt and cleaning up. She mumbled a halfhearted mmhmm and sat up. She was blinded by the pain in her head. After a moment the pain shrunk from splitting her head open with a giant nail to a small nail. She slowly and clumsily stood up and sagged against a wall and began to fumble her way towards the entrance. one step. Two steps she stumbled, almost falling to her knees, but her hand grabbed a rock protruding from the wall just in time. It sliced her palm and she grimaced and stood. Wiping her bloody palm against her pants.
"Thank you," she whispered, closing her eyes. "I'm actually tired for once," she muttered.
Eyes flashing with worry, the elf proclaimed, “I should get you into the bag, now.” She analyzed Azriel with a frown digging into her mouth. Iris muttered illegibly about pocket dimensions before asking, “Can you stand?”
Azriel groaned, briefly putting a hand over her eyes before slowly standing up, hissing in pain a few times, but trying not to show any other signs of pain. "I feel like my grandmother," she muttered.
In a second, Iris was holding the water skin to her angel’s lips. Awkwardly, she began the process of positioning her arm over Azriel’s wings. The Yrnan quietly lent support, taking some of her weight. With a quiet laugh, the pair began hobbling to one of Clare’s many rooms. “I bet your grandma was a rad old angel. Now drink.”
Azriel reluctantly sipped from the water skin before speaking again. "My grandmother was… incredibly disabled. But, cool, I suppose. In her own right."
“Disabled? Could she fly?” Iris shot randomly, before murmuring something to herself in Eltin. They now stood before the portal, the elf’s arm still tightly wrapped around her angel.
"I'm not really sure, but she was blind and deaf, so it probably would have been a bad idea, anyway. Funny old woman, my grandmother," Azriel reminisced thoughtfully. She wasn't really sure if her brain was working properly, but for now she was quite content to ramble on nonsensically.
Iris blinked, before bluntly holding the water skin to her lips in a silent command. “Blind and deaf, wow,” she mused, eyes still raking Azriel with concern. More murmuring in Eltin ensued.
"Short-term memory loss, as well," Azriel mumbled before turning to Iris. "What are you saying?" She asked, finally taking another drink.
A light blush rose to her cheeks. “I’m complaining about these damn things-“ she prodded one of Azriel’s wings. “If it weren’t for them I’d pick you up bridal style and carry you instead of making you walk.”
"No, that's quite alright, I'm not all that - " unfortunately, she had to cough right then, which didn't exactly help her argument. "I can walk perfectly well, it's mainly my arms," she lied.
“Even if that wasn’t a lie, I’d still fuss over you,” she acknowledged. “And drink more water. Half of your physical state is probably due to dehydration. You lost too much blood, also.” Her eyes began glazing over. “Azriel, there was so much blood.” A haunted look entered her eyes as her voice reached a near whisper. “I’ve never been so scared, and watching you be absolutely helpless against the mind control? I…”
"Iris, I…" she trailed off, at a loss for words. Having someone who cared enough to be scared and angry that she'd been hurt was a completely new concept for her. "I really am alright, I promise. I'll make more blood, and it'll all be fine," she reassured Iris, blinking dark spots out of her vision.
Despite the situation, a wry smile formed on Iris’s profile. “You make the blood, I’ll provide the security of a frightened mother. And fresh supplies. Such as more water. Consistent meals. Regulated temperatures.” A wink was thrown in just for measure. “We need to get in Clare’s bag before this tires you out. But first… drink.”
Azriel groaned. "I already did," she complained. "I'm not even tired anymore. Just… a tad dizzy."
Iris fidgeted uncomfortably, even reaching for her sheath out of habit. She eventually concluded, “C’mon, let’s get you into a sitting position. Just a few more steps.” Her arm remained ever present for Azriel to lean on.
"I'm fine, Iris, it isn't as though I'm about to fall over," Azriel protested, shaking her head. "You don't need to worry so much."
They finally crossed the bridge, landing a bit shakily. Pursing her lips, Iris replied, “I’ll stop worrying when I stop caring.” She gently guided her angel to the chair Clare mentioned.
Azriel sat in the chair, crossing her arms. "Fine. I guess I can't stop you then. I'm just so," she flipped her hair, "charming." She burst into a fit of giggles, which hurt her sides, not that she really cared.
Playfully, she shot back, “Oh please. I couldn’t stop caring if I tried, it has nothing to do with your lack of charm.” Not so subtlety, she nudged the waterskin into Azriel’s hands.
"Excuse you. 'Lack' of charm? How very rude," she sniffed, rolling her eyes before taking another sip of water.
“Well I hate to be blunt, but what charm is there in telling others they’re rude?” Iris delicately commented, with the air of a prim lady. She placed her hand on Azriel’s forehead, breathing a sigh of relief at no extreme temperature.
(Cough Mary Poppins cough)
Azriel tilted her head. "Well, you've clearly been charmed, and it certainly wasn't by my looks, so I suppose that is debatable."
(Lolllll)
Waggling her eyebrows, Iris pressed, "Who said it wasn't by your looks? They're an added bonus… and make up for your lack of charm." Her eyes lit up with the words as she seated herself on the ground, getting comfortable.
"How dare you," Azriel asked in mock offense. After a moment of thinking, she asked, "well, if it wasn't my stunning charm, and my looks are just an added bonus, what is it?"
