to think we could stay the same — med. guild meeting

[align=center][div style="width:400px; font-size:8pt;line-height:1.1;color:#000;font-family:arial;margin-top:3px;margin-bottom:3px;letter-spacing:0px;margin-left:0px;text-align:justify;"]Ishayu was by no means a healer, or at the very least within the traditional sense of the practice. She held knowledge upon a basic level, could tell apart the base herbs to offer respite from pain, how to bandage gashes and cuts, set a bone once it had been broken, but she was one taught to kill and maim from the beginning, not to heal. There had seemed little practical about a soldier learning the act of healing, something better left for others for once broken you are left to wither and die or keep going, pushing until the very end, such notion had never held a place within her line of thought, however. Yet all the same her approach to things were tentative, thoughts of simply leaving it be, continuing her work in the shadow of the mountains and allowing the others space to grow where she was not permitted filling her head.

“Greetings Jericho,” soft is the voice of the serval, edged with worry for she expected harsh words in reply, driven from the meeting for this was not her place. Giving her head a brisk shake Ishayu slowly approached, eyes wandering about the space, captivated by the riot of colours, the smell of which was heady and bright, one she had never truly experienced before. It was beautiful.