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Pandora Montgomery (pandacharms) wrote in finnigans_rpg,

"I'll drop by the apothecary on the way home this evening. I'm used to worse, to be honest. I duel frequently still." And Rich had certainly roughed her up worse than this before, and she him. "I just loathe to bleed on things." Too many nasty things one could do with blood, if one were willing. She knew some of the spells; she never used them.

"Well, I wouldn't have blamed you for not wanting to get into the middle of it." And she wouldn't have. Most people would walk by with their heads ducked when people were yelling at each other in the street, even today. She shrugged at his next words. "Most people are, and I can't really blame them, but I'm not the enemy. The war messed me up as much as it did anyone." Moreso in a lot of ways; the spell damage and the emotional and physical backlashes would never go away, at least not completely.

She nodded. "Thank you. Your opinion is most appreciated." She padded back around the counter, heels of her boots clicking very softly, and picked up the prosthetic. It looked almost exactly like a real limb, which was part of a charm and part of its actual make up. She brought it over to show him. "I am not a great person nor a horrible one. Everyone did what they had to do to survive." She held it out to him. Running a finger over where it would fit onto the man's stump, she touched the individual places and the fingers moved in turn. She smiled, the first genuine smile since earlier in the day.