It had been a long day. The smell of evening was beginning to release, dampening down the dry dusty air, if only for a few hours. Stepping out of the door and cracking her knuckles, Kipperley sighed deeply. Even after a year, the wearing hours of a healer were yet to become second to breathing to her. Unlike her tutor, Branwyn, who had been in the role for longer than the girl had been alive. The old man was a task master, that was for sure, Kip reflected with a rueful smile and rubbing the base of her neck with weary fingers, but a good man and masterful teacher. She knew, when she was under his watchful eye, that not much could go wrong.
The girl turned for home, hitching the little pack of supplies she toted to and fro a little higher on her shoulder and began to steel herself for the cold front formerly known as "Mother." Leila made no secret that she detested her daughter's desire to pursue something other than homemaking. Kipperley's brothers and father avoided becoming involved in any discussion, which left Kip in a very quiet house. Well, quiet aside from the constant string of stinging remarks from her Mother. One day I'll know enough to get out of here, the girl mused as she meandered home in the fading light. I'll know enough to become great. The number of lives I'll save...
A stone caught underfoot, and the girl scuffled a little, trying to regain her balance. Her feet though, betrayed her and all of a sudden she was flying through the air, arms flailing out in front of her. "Oh help!!" she yelped to no one, closing her big brown eyes as she slid across the ground, palms losing skin as she attempted to save herself. With a grunt she came to a stop and opened her eyes. "Oh ouch. Ouch that stings!" she muttered to herself, cheeks red with shame even though the street had been all but empty.
All but empty but for the boots staring her in the face. Boots that were connected to legs. And a torso. And arms and a head. "Oh! I'm sorry!" Kipperley fluffed, jumping to her feet in the assumption that she'd knocked the man before her over. Even though she'd not felt any contact. "Let me help you up. Again, I am so sorry! My feet get underneath me sometimes," she blathered on, "I mean, of course my feet are underneath me, that's just a silly thing to say but oh --!" The girl stopped all of a sudden, seeming to take in the figure in finally.
"Oh! You're hurt." Those big brown eyes popped even wider as in one sweeping look she appraised the injuries she could see. She felt her stomach heave as she spied the clearly freshly amputated arm "Your arm is gone!? How are you not dead!!?"