[Setebos]

ooc: takes place after Tranquil as a forest, but fire within!!

He gave her an hour to collect herself. Setebos was not presumptuous enough to say that he was acting as a friend; that would assume too much of their relationship, and whatever connection they shared. He could only surmise that she needed privacy and distance to recuperate because that was what he would have needed if he was in her position. He didn't want to overwhelm her with the feeling that every spectator in the challenge was crowding at her doorstep.

While Setebos hesitated at calling Cappella a friend, he had observed enough of her to understand her. They were similar people. Were he around for her tempestuous teenage days, her bitterness would have been mighty enough to chip at even his walls. The collision would have been enough to level Inaria. Trauma and devastation had mellowed out Cappella's temperament in time for motherhood, but before then, she had greeted the unfairness in the world with a clenched fist and a blue tongue. Setebos's approach never reached her level of aggression, but he was not a friendly person. Even before his mate died and he locked his heart away behind newer, harder walls, he was not friendly.

He was kind, but not friendly.

This was a gesture from one kind man to a downtrodden girl; language shared between the people whose hands were worn and dirty from building walls, the people who screamed in the middle of the night, the people that lived like hurricanes, that blasted away everyone who tried to wade towards the eye of the storm. Setebos would not put it in those words - I understand how you feel - because he did not, but he had seen Cappella like this before, when she had been washed ashore, when he had nursed her back to health, and when he had helped deliver her puppies.

He found her, wherever she chose to isolate herself, whether it was by an easy guess, happenstance, or took some searching, and stood by at a reasonable distance. He watched her carefully. "Hey," he said, "You alright?"

[Cappella]

C A P P E L L A Art | Aesthetic BG Credit

Her chest was tight, and each breath was a struggle. Setebos may have been kind to give her an hour, but it certainly was not enough. This was something that would hover over the woman for the rest of her life, the day she lashed out and attacked an Inarian. The taste of iron was in her mouth, and Sage's blood had long since dried on her lower lip, but the thought of acknowledging it made her want to vomit. The smell hung in the air around her too, no matter where she went, the wound on her side dripping blood gently onto the soil below. Her legs trembled beneath her, not realizing she was staring idly at a tree as she tried to fight back the overwhelming feeling of dread and shame.

She didn't notice Setebos watching her.

"Hey, You alright?"

What kind of stuPID FUCKING QUESTION-- "NO." She didn't mean to shout, but it was an uncontrollable force inside her now, raw and aching and so very painful. But, Setebos was probably used to the fiery temper she had, he helped her deliver her children after all (and that was no easy thing). She took a deep breath, holding it in her chest for a long time before forcefully letting it out. "I hurt her." How could anyone in Inaria look her in the eyes now? After everything? She had tried to step up to help everyone but it had backfired so terribly, and now everyone would know her as the filthy, ungrateful traitor who lashed out at their new Captain.

"I didn't mean it--I--" Panic was taking it's hold of her.

"I thought she was--"

Abruptly interrupted as she suddenly lurched over, vomit spilling onto the ground.

(It didn't make her feel any better).

[Setebos]

With Setebos's understanding came a certain familiarity with Cappella's behaviors. The microsecond the question left his mouth he knew what her reply would be, and as his concern was rewarded with a bellowed NO that nearly blew his ears back, he thought to himself not to bother Cappella with more obvious questions. He deserved that answer for certain, and if he was in the young woman's position, he absolutely would have responded the same.

Besides, in comparison to when she was giving birth? This was Cappella in a good mood.

Despite her obvious distress, he maintained a professional demeanor, not allowing Cappella's frenetic jabs to penetrate his facade. Someone among them had to maintain their composure. As Cappella pulled herself together, babbling about the altercation with Sage, Setebos quietly unstrapped the saddlebag attached to his hip and began looking through it for supplies. Cappella was, understandably, distraught by what happened. Setebos knew that Sage wasn't badly hurt, but he wasn't going to downplay the harm that she had inflicted on her, even involuntarily.

"It was a spar, Capp," Setebos said. "She's gonna be fine. She was bleeding, yeah, but it was superficial."

As Cappella continued, stammering between aborted sentences, his sympathy deepened. I thought she was- fill in the blanks with any Saboran from his nightmares. Setebos's ears flattened and he released a weary sigh, brows furrowing. "I know," was all he said, and she could come to her own conclusions based on that. Cappella reeled, another attempt at explaining herself abruptly ending in a defeated gurgle--

--and vomited onto the ground. And kept vomiting. Setebos flinched sympathetically, and while Cappella emptied her stomach, he finished collecting the medicine that he needed. He placed the fat, red raspberries, the burdock, and valerian off to the side, away from the puddle of vomit. All three herbs would assist in easing Cappella's rattled nerves. He knew based on her behavior at the challenge that her sickness was the result of intense anxiety.

"Here, eat this once you've got it all out of your system. It'll help settle you down," he said. Then, to hammer home that he wasn't going to leave until Cappella had devoured the ingredients to his satisfaction, he sat down.