#dontneedhelp

Kida clutched tightly to the piece of paper in her hands, practically trembling with rage. For the third time, she read over the short letter, each word pushing her further over the edge. There is nothing you can do, Kidagakash. He is dead. Our best healers have tried and failed; there is not anything more to be done. The words were sharp and bitter, far more than splashes of ink on parchment. "How is it that they can say such things?" she managed in a harsh whisper, angry tears beginning to spill past her eyes. "I can heal him! I know I can! They cannot tell me no!" What had been a whisper was now a shout, and she couldn't bring herself to care if she had caught the attention of any onlookers. With shaking hands, she crumpled the letter into a ball and threw it as far as she could. She had to get home, to her father. This couldn't happen. She wouldn't allow it to. It was time for her to gather her things and leave. Spinning around, she took off towards the inn, fists clenched at her sides. With vision blurred from tears, she slammed into someone, barely catching herself before she tumbled over. Breathing quickly, she turned to look at the person she had run into, wiping at her tears. "Are you hurt?"