Day 2, Late Evening - Unicorn (expecting)

[Ide Rettousei]

Soraya shrugged, "They heat the sand then it heats the cup? I mean, I don't know the details of why and how. Just that that's how it's always done."

"I'll have to learn more about it, then," Rettousei says, and sips at his tea.

Then, to the others, "Is there anything I can do to help you?"

[Soraya al-Menjari]

"I'll have to learn more about it, then," Rettousei says, and sips at his tea.

Then, to the others, "Is there anything I can do to help you?"

"I suspect Hazaad-sama here will need to do most of the rest of the work, Ide-san. Maybe you can see Menjari-sama here home safely for me? It is late, after all."

-snip-

Yarut keeps looking at Qara after her answer, wondering what the prognosis is.

[Ide Rettousei]

"I suspect Hazaad-sama here will need to do most of the rest of the work, Ide-san. Maybe you can see Menjari-sama here home safely for me? It is late, after all."

"It would be an honor, of course."

Rettousei drains his tea and stands.

[Qara al-Hazaad]

Yarut keeps looking at Qara after her answer, wondering what the prognosis is.

"I'll have to consult some others on this. Healing is not my area of expertise, though I feel, it might soon become one. Besides the leg, how are your elements? Are you eating and drinking enough?"

She looked up at the woman with some concern in her eyes.

[Soraya al-Menjari]

"I'll have to consult some others on this. Healing is not my area of expertise, though I feel, it might soon become one. Besides the leg, how are your elements? Are you eating and drinking enough?"

She looked up at the woman with some concern in her eyes.

"I am certainly being provided for in that way. Menjari-sama over there even seems to go out of her way to find Rokugani food like rice and fish and tea. Not that anyone here judges me for wanting red meat too."

A gruff chuckle.

"I just need to move more. Without swinging my sword or drawing my bow, without the wind in my hair... I feel like I'm losing the fire and air inside me, just solidifying into something less, sore and weak and pitiful. ...and there's nothing to do here but pray and write." She pointed to a journal on that end table that her wakizashi was propped up against. "It's like I'm in a monastery. At my age."