cressida/micah: first aid area
"Thankfully," Micah echoed, nodding that he shared the same feelings. Over and just started. The aftermath and the cleanup, the recovery, it was only beginning. They'd find out what kind of damage the warlock had done when everyone got back and settled in. Right now, most of the students were showing shock symptoms, numb and gradually accepting that they were free. Others recovered much more quickly and some still seemed completely unfazed.
At Cressida's question, Micah looked at her and smiled, bracing a hand behind him to lean on the truck bed, feet still reaching the ground with the long stretch of his legs. "I was a Mystic. I dealt in natural magic. Life power and spirits of nature. My mother is Shoshone and somehow I was born with the magical aptitude to communicate with animals and trees. Metaphysical things, spirituality, they're fascinating to me even now." Even if he couldn't hear nature anymore.
It was a fact that still saddened Micah. His wife and family had helped ease the transition into being a werebear, but now they were gone too and he was back at the school where he'd studied his mystical arts. Everyday he was reminded of what he couldn't do anymore, but he was the kind of man who saw beyond his own limitations. Embracing what he could do rather than feeling less because of what he couldn't. Everything happened for a reason and Micah believed that he was meant to be bitten by a were and turned.
"Are you familiar with transcendental magics at all?"