[size=12]"For, whom the Muses smile upon,
And touch with soft persuasion,
His words like a storm-wind can bring
Terror and beauty on their wing;
In his every syllable
Lurketh nature veritable."
- Ralph Waldo Emerson
[size=16]Moments later, she rolled over, shaking off the snow and sighed, as the unusual beastie had tossed her several yards away. Rising gingerly with a faint wince, Sorcha felt the impact of many uncomfortable rocks against one side of her body and slowly approached the creature again. "Hush now. I am going to rescue ye master, Keirnis." Both gloved hands held up, as she once more edged towards the large form. She spoke softly, having read somewhere that such a behavior worked best when dealing with wild animals. One could but hope it was true, or they would likely find her dead body after the spring thaw.
She noticed an arrow fletch protruding from one of the large black bird's leg. While Sorcha was not anyone's idea of a healer, she did have the rudiments of first aid. Not to mention, Myrialla was always pushing vials and potion bottles on her, Cieara and Daniel every chance she got. Usually the assassin dropped them into a small bag she carried with her and forgot them. Today she would actually get to use them.
Sorcha eventually got close enough to touch the creature, feeling it quivering under her hand. Thankfully, it was quiet for the most part. Still, she had to figure out how to get the point of the quiver out of the poor thing's body. After some thought, she peered at Keirnis, her gaze catching the dark eyes that somberly stared back at her. "I need to get that thing out of ye Lass. I nae can promise it will nae hurt, but ye will need to stand very still and stay quiet." She mumbled softly, while fingers gently stroked those silken feathers in what she hoped was a soothing manner. "Last thing we be needing is to alert those soldiers that we be here."
She didn't know if the beast understood, but she got a blink from the feathered creature. Leaning down she looked at the painful wound. Yanking a glove from her cold fingers with her teeth, she very carefully wrapped them around the haft. Taking a deep, calming breath, Sorcha forced the shadows into the wood and metal. Once her own hand shimmered with the threads of darkness she gave a quick pull. Using the shade to remove the projectile had been her only option, as she hadn't wanted to inflict more damage when yanking it out. She moved fast, pulling a healing vial from her bag and splashed it upon the wound which had started to bleed rather copiously.
Keirnis shuddered briefly before she butted her feathery head against Sorcha. The elf wasn't sure what to make of that, but uttered soft sounds to sooth the beast. She felt the gentle velvet sensation touch her chilled cheek in return. It would take several minutes for the magic to work, so she stood there quiet, gently petting the unusual bird until she saw the damage fade into a pale pink scar.
"You will need to stay back." Sorcha told the bird, talking to her as if she understood what she was saying. "I am going to get Artu and maybe we can fly him out of here. If you can fly?" Sorcha ran her fingers gently along one feathered wing, and then checked the other. Keirnis flapped, as if saying they were fine and Sorcha took that as a "yes".