Guardian, Consular, Sentinel

Send "<-" for the reverse.

Send ‘ Reverse + A Symbol ‘ for MY MUSE (Posted the Prompt) to catch a Distress Signal from YOUR MUSE (Sended the Prompt) !

⛴  - The Muse survived a Naval Accident and is now stranded on a lonely Iseland.

🌪 - The Muse survived a Accident on Sea and is now on a wrecked Ship floating aimlessly on the Ocean.

☈  - The Muse survived a Accident in Space and is now stranded on a wild Planet.

Uncerimonically Ziv reached out and pinched the younger womans cheek hard. Not hard enough to really cut in her flesh with the as sharp as razors claws of a carnivore the young woman as a Tynnan despite thausand of years of evolution of her species still had, but still hard enough to be noticed and be as annoying as possible.

"Ex-kriffing-cuse me, but i happen to be a kriffing medic and kriffing medics have to treat the injured-", she pulled back her paw and instead grabbed for a pair of thin gloves that lay on top of her backpack which she had taken off and opned so she could easier grab her supplies. As always the gloves were made for Humanoids, so not only was there a finger too much on the gloves, but the thin plastoid was pinching into the Tynnans sensetive webbing between her fingers like small needles, making Ziv grimace a little. The rucksack was open, blue sunlight shimmered on the transperent plastoid pack filled with herbs, barks and dried flowerpetals. At this time of the day the starhangar was a busy place- Droids beeped wildly either to translate or to repair ships, people talked, someone yelled, engines started loud like explosions. Where they were sitting on a few cargo-boxes in one corner of the big hangar the noises were a loud rushing ocean, washing over them from three sides. Ziv was standing beside Parta, her small paws working nimbly as she picked up afew packs of plastoid and a small can with salve that when opned smelled earthy and damp like the heart of a deep, rotten forest. The hangars roof was open for incoming and leaving starshps so the clear sky with the small azure sun bathed the hangar in every shade of blue as if teh whole starharbour was drowned in a tropic ocean. "And can you kriffing imagine- you are one of those injured, so why don´t you bite down on a sock or something and let me fuss so I can kriffing treat you properly?"

“And there are people more injured than me,” she whimpered. The woman was a Mandalorian. They didn’t submit to pain the same way others did. They kept up the fight until they won. And yet, here she was, waiting for the Tynnan to treat her. What had she come to? At the same time, it was rather foolish of her to refuse treatment if she could receive it here for free. The gloves Ziv put on were comically oversized, although she kept herself from laughing. She was trying to keep a low profile, after all. She was simply hired help, nothing more or less. There were a few wounds on her body. Given her station before deserting Death Watch, she’d never quite earned beskar armor. Thus, her coverings weren’t the most protective. A blaster wound was showing on her arm, whereas there was probably some impact bruising along her ribs. It was beautiful outside, Parta noted.

The Mandalorian woman was trying to clean her weapons when, suddenly, Ziv was pawing at her for attention. Parta gave a glance, taking note of the smile, then laughed.

“Taking your breath away, huh? I suppose I have to figure out if you need me to press your chest… or do mouth-to-mouth,” she teased just as readily.

Before she had been sitting by her desk, checking patients recipes and what herbal oinments, tinctures, bandages and salves she still had to prepare befire her tour in the morning to visit the people she was treatening at the moment. The Tynnan had never been especially fond of paperwork, but as someone trained to terraform she had been teached to document every single step. So while boredom lay around her mind like a thick blanket, making it hard to think, she dutyfully continued her list before she randomly threw the line at the younger woman. Now, swirling the stylus between her webbed fingers, Ziv leaned back on the stool she was sitting, wagging her eyebrows playfully but very far from serious: ”- as a Medic I am always a kriffing biiiiig advocate of Mouth-to-Mouth, but since I happen to have big kriffing and kriffing sharp teeth, we better have pity on your sweet little face and go for the chest-pressing. You know, as soon as I am no longer a kriffing slave to paperwork, that is. So in about ten years, we can make a date, yeh?”

When she heard the creak of the stool, Parta took a look to make sure she wasn’t falling over. Why did she care so much? Either way, there was definitely something in the air. “Oh, come on, as if it wouldn’t be an honor to bear scars for saving someone else’s life?”

Raelyn approached the creature carefully. "What happened?" She crooned. "Don't worry...I won't hurt you."

She didn't notice the other person at first. Her entire attention was on the creature. This planet was new to her, but dealing with animals was not. Though it was afraid, she communicated with the Force, moving slowly, staying calm, until she was close enough that she could see where it had been hurt.

So, she was on a quest to find safety. Other Jedi and safety. If there was someone, anyone, more competent and experienced than her, she needed them. Which brought her to the Force signature she tried so hard to focus on. People could and did mask their presences, so it was rare she could even find a whiff of another Force-sensitive.

She could only hope that this one was a friend and not a foe. As the Nautolan drew close, she noticed the alien lifeform interacting with a human. The one she was seeking was a human, it seemed. Unless animals could be Jedi Masters? A hint of her old humor shone though with a ghost of a smile. Catching the gesture, she approached much more slowly than before.