It was time. It was time to go to Evendim. It was a long-shot, she knew, regardless of the reassuring words from Atharann, but she'd never been one to shy away from long odds and thus she was willing to take the risk. What was the worst that could happen anyway? It wouldn't work and nothing would change. Disappointing, maybe, but hardly world shattering.
So, she had been watching out for Ryheric. Despite the strained nature of their relationship of late, she'd said he could accompany her. She wasn't going to go back on that just because they'd had a tiff or two since. Harold found her first, telling her that the man in question was going to track her down later, but he never came and thus she had gone to find him instead.
It had taken most of the day to check all the places she knew he might go to, but she eventually found him in a hidden alcove out in Nen Harn. She'd been surprised to find Mildwynn and Tarsorel there as well, off to one side in a little make-shift camp, but didn't question it too much. She spoke, instead, to Ry.
It went well, she thought. His anger toward her had faded enough that they could speak again without her feeling trepidation and fear that she might say the wrong thing and make it all worse. No more eggshells to walk over. No more hot coals to singe her metaphorical feet. She could be free with him again, drop her guards and her masks, just like he wanted. Just like he'd asked of her.
She knew he'd been injured in a recent fight with bandits. She knew he'd taken a knife to the gut. She knew that such wounds could be terrible indeed and had urged him to have Mildwynn check him once the young healer was rested. But Silver herself was not a healer. Silver herself had no idea it would become so bad...
She'd left before first light, heading out to Trestlebridge to gather some supplies. They would need blankets and food, more linen for bandages. It wasn't much, it wasn't fancy, but it should be of some use to them, she thought.
By the time she returned, things had taken a turn for the worse. Mildwynn was exhausted, soaked through by rain, cold, muddy and using her own body to prop up an unconscious Ryheric. Tarsorel, his body battered by the bandits and alcohol withdrawal alike, was too far gone to be of much use just then as well.
"What can I do?" She had asked Mildwynn, and had been put straight to work. Tend the fire, boil water, dig a hole... it didn't matter what was asked of her, she did it. She even remembered to offer the young healer some warm, dry clothes. Her own, perhaps, but the two women were of a similar enough size that they should fit. Besides, it would do no good for Mildwynn to fall ill herself from exposure, hunger or exhaustion. She needed some looking after too, and though Silver had never been of a particularly nurturing or motherly nature, she still tried to ensure that the most important person in the clearing right now was cared for as well.
By the time Atharann arrived, she had just finished hacking down a pile of large branches and leaves for use as a cover for the sickly man. By now, she knew it was bad; Mildwynn had made no attempt to sugar-coat that news - a thing for which Silver had found her respect for the young woman increasing.
It was hard to ignore the worry, but she pushed it away all the same. It would do no good in this moment. It would only get in the way. She kept busy, she kept calm.. at least until she spoke with the Ranger. What had started out as a suggestion to him, a request for his aid in saving a dying man, had quickly turned into an argument between the two. Somewhere at the back of her mind, she understood that he, too, was concerned, that he was only trying to help, but his tone, his arrogance, his refusal to extend to Ryheric the offer he had made to her, had brought out her ire.
It was only Ryheric's intervention - just a few words spoken from within the small trench that she had dug for him - that had reigned her back in.
Then Lavendara arrived along with Scanie and Harold. They had watched as the Ranger had worked upon the man, trying in his own way to aid in the healing.
Silver had felt helpless then. She wasn't good at this. She wasn't like Lavendara - she couldn't sit at the mans side and offer gentle words of encouragement and hope. She couldn't say the right things or comfort anyone. All she could do was watch and wait.
Useless.
