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Jericho was watching the others keenly, waiting to see if any had tales they wanted to share first.  She noticed Nithel’s shoulder seemed stiff and he caught her eyes a moment before looking down and rolling his fingers.  Concern crossed her features.  “My friend,” she said, standing to approach and inspect his shoulder, “you needn’t put on a brave face if you are in pain.  If you ask, I will help.”  The cut wasn’t deep, but clearly there was more to it than appeared.

The woman gently laid her hand on Nithel’s shoulder and inhaled deeply.  She closed her eyes and let pure, unbridled compassion course through her mind and heart.  Something tugged in her core.  For Nithel the pain gradually receded until even the sting of air touching the scratch was gone.  Because the scratch itself was now gone.

Jericho slowly exhaled, opening her eyes and returning to her seat.  She smoothed some creases in the folds of her robes before meeting the gazes of the others.  “Shall I tell my story or would someone else like to go first?”

@kimlikesart @this-is-not-an-alien