|| @torntruth | karlach

It is still pretty early in the morning duties around the tavern when Karlach's words catch her off guard. Dronia pauses, cheeks heated and flushed as she quickly glances around to see if the rest of the staff was nearby to hear her. It is almost embarrassing how easily flustered Karlach could get her with just such a simple phrase. Hells, she didn't even realize those words would affect her like that until she met her. It made her weak in the knees, blushing profusely.

She grips at the rope she was holding from unhitching some of the cargo on the carriage. "Karlach," she says slowly, turning back to look at her. "You keep talking like that, and I'm not going to be able to focus on work."

|| @torntruth | kristen

The last few days have been torment. She could feel it, her control slipping away from her, an anger she never knew she had threatening to lash out at damn near anyone who so much as crossed their eyes at her. More and more people were looking less like individuals and more like meals. And she had snapped at a comrade, right in the open, threatened to split their throat and spill their blood. Or at least in a roundabout way. Kristen hadn't deserved that, no matter how much she had been pestering the increasingly distressed dhampir. She'd excused herself from duties for a few days, staying locked in the Elf Song tavern to collect her thoughts and calm her mind. Anything. Anything had to help.

The sound of weight plopping down on the table she rested her head on caused her to look up. Bloodshot eyes, nearly crimson through and through look up at the tiefling, confusion settling into her features for only a moment.

Before her was a cloak, dark green, the kind that was made of warm wool and would blend in perfectly during cold night hunts. Her fingers run along the material, admiring it. "I do. They're perfect for hunting at night..." she gestures to the empty seat across from her. "Thank you. And... for what it's worth, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have lashed out at you like that."

|| @bhaalsfavorite

Dronia was tending to Inkblot when Gwyar came running toward her tent, urgency in both his step and his voice. Maybe even genuine concern. But he had fooled her before, feigning to be a kind and good soul, her trust had not yet been repaired. A dark brow quirked, the woman shot him a look, still uncertain if she should believe him after everything.

"If this is a ploy to lead me away from the others..." She would not allow him to manipulate her or play with her emotions again. "He was here not even an hour ago."

blood, blood, gallons of the stuff ! || accepting [🏹]

|| @rivalsunraveled

Dronia was already riffling through her bag for gauze and a small bottle of alcohol. "That's not always a good sign, Sir Ystin." She immediately pulled the cap of the alcohol out with her teeth, spitting the cork aside, and held out their arm. "There could be something seriously wrong if you can't feel as much pain there. Or it could be nothing at all. I'll need to clean it up to get a good look at it." And with that, she tilted the bottle, "Brace yourself." And the alcohol poured over the open wound.

Once the wound was rinsed, she gave it a good once over. "No infection that I can see but it doesn't look great either. May I patch it up? I'm skilled with a needle, I promise."

╭┈┈┈┈ ₊˚ෆ 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 ! ╰ ♡⸝⸝ 𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐁𝐒 || accepting [🏹]

|| @thcinfernal

She doesn't mean to laugh so abruptly at the question, but there's something so absurd about the idea that any of this could have been real, to begin with. Nothing has been sane or normal since Winter Dale burned, it was a series of tragic and wild events that were all entirely out of her control. However... not everything was bad. She's made new friends, she dare say a family... and then there is Karlach.