randomplaces | K'vk'tun: Hammocks

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K'vk'tun: Hammocks

Ramada stared into the cup of brown beverage that was most definitely not coffee, and then looked over at her small friend, wondering how best to delicately phrase that the stuff tasted like crap and wasn't there anything else to drink.

She could find no euphemism that was guaranteed not to set Mykayla off (truth be told she was a bit grumpy, and Ramada couldn't blame her given the condition she was in), and so instead turned to her small friend and said:

"Do they put sugar in this?"

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With Isaiah still cradled in her arms she watched the events unfolding inside.

Scrat stood next to Kree, watching as his adopted sister gently held an instrument over a spot on Mykayla's head, every line of his body poised to hand her whatever she needed. Kree's expression was peaceful, only concentration furrowed her brow.

"Vhat do you see?" asked Seeschein softly.

"I don't know. She's being taken care of, but I don't know what's going on."

She'd never really cared much for the medicine of this place. To her it was too futuristic and she didn't understand it. Perhaps what was going on in that room was supposed to be something pleasant and optimistic, but it had Ramada scared.

"It's in her head. She won't wake up from that."

On the operating table Mykayla felt awareness return and started to lift a hand to her head, then opened her eyes and looked up as Kree caught her wrist.

"Just lay still a little longer, little sister," said the K'vk woman gently. "I'm nearly done."

"Alright." She sighed. "Isaiah?"

"Ramada has him."

"Oh... poor Mady." Mykayla's face crumpled.

Scrat just squeezed his eyes shut and gave thanks.

Ramada dealt the Feen who'd brought her here a look that said 'oh sure, prove me wrong again, why don't you?'

Then she remembered he couldn't see.

And then she felt really stupid about everything.

"I heard her." Seeschein's ears twitched in a slight smile as his sea glimmer eyes glistened and his warm arms tightened just a little around Ramada. "She's going to be alvright."

The response was simple.

"Oh."

Isaiah stirred in Ramada's arms.

"Think I can go in there with him as soon as they're done?"

"Ja, I think so." He ear-smiled again, then perked as Kree put down the tool and stepped back.

Scrat gathered his wife in his arms and lowered his face to her hair as she rested her head comfortingly against his chest.

"Just tell me when, then."

"Now, I think," he rumbled softly, turning to carry her toward the door.

She laughed slightly. "You can put me down anytime."

"Ach! Right." He looked embarrassed as he carefully did so, unwrapping his wings and stepping back.

"Thanks," she said before going through the doorway that led into the place.

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K'vk'tun: Hammocks

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