Strongjaw & The Dish

11

She walked out and he hung back as she whistled sharply and got someone's attention as they drifted by. He couldn't hear what she was saying, both because she was a little bit away and because his ears were still ringing a little from that hammer to the head. He just watched her. Something was different now, for sure. She didn't look scared or sad so much now. She looked really nice, actually. His mind was just starting to walk down a well-worn road toward dirty places when she turned around and gave him the 'come on' gesture before heading toward the dining room.  

He followed, still tracing a few of those thoughts to their conclusion as he did. Almost as soon as they entered a bunch of the ghost-ladies were there too, setting out big ol' bowls of steamy water and putting out platters with what looked like really gross food on it. It smelled bad too. All sharp and nose-stingy.

"I am not gunna eat that." He growled as he crossed his arms in petulance.

"It's not dinner, numb-nuts, it's medicine."

Numb nuts Truth was he actually wished they were numb right about now. That low blow had been brutal. "Oh. Well... okay then."

"Sit." She motioned at the chair nearby and he sat like she asked. "Wash." She pointed at the basin and tossed him a rag.

"Bossy." he grumbled, but dunked it and started washing the drying blood away from his hand and arm. She didn't say anything to that. He watched her secretly, peeking now and then as she washed up herself. He felt a little guilty for bruising her like that. He just didn't know how else to make her remember who she was. She was like him. Fighting was part of her nature.

"I'm... I'm sorry I hit you." He said with a hard frown, keeping his eyes on his cut palm, dabbing at the seeping blood as it welled up.

"Yeah, well, I'm sorry I bashed you in the head with a hammer." She tossed her own rag aside and picked up pitcher and cup, spooning out something bright yellow that she stirred into the water, and then added a bit from this bowl and a sprinkle from that one, a muddy sort of mixture that stank to high heaven. She then took a bigger mug and did the same, but she used way more. When both were stirred up, she gave him the mug.

"Bottoms up."

He sniffed it and gagged a little. "Ugh... nope."

"Suit yourself. Babies who don't take their medicine don't get surprises." She drank her own down in two gulps, then poured some more water into the cup.

He frowned again. He wanted a surprise. And he wasn't a baby! If she could drink it, so could he! He pinched his nose and gulped it down. He was right. It was nasty. He could feel the little bits of whatever it was sticking to his tongue and he made a face, licking at his fingers to try and wipe the flavor away.

"Here." She took his mug and poured more water, giving it back so he could gulp it down and wash the flavor away. Well, some of it.

"You know, I can get a healing potion. I have one in my bag." He thought that would be way easier. "Or I can see if Pike's awake..."

"Well, that's fine for you if you want." She was putting the stinky herbs to the side. "Most of us don't have the kind of money to waste on potions and we don't have a pocket-cleric to carry around with us either. Most of us..." she said with a sigh. "Have to heal the old-fashioned way."

He could see her point. When she put her hand out, eyeing his cut one, he let her see the gash the sword blade had made in his palm. It wasn't terribly deep, which was no doubt due to his natural toughness.

"Oh, well, that's not too bad." She pulled a jar over and he was surprised to see it was the honey pot. He watched as she lifted the little wood dipper thing and let the honey drip onto his cut. "Honey... never goes bad. It doesn't let anything nasty grow so it is very good for wounds." Her voice was quiet and calming as she began to wrap a long strip of cloth around his hand to bandage it. Hypnotized, he watched her unconsciously lick a bit of sticky off the back of her knuckle after putting the stick back.