For Dave Strider and Dave Strider

[not_only_wisdom]

Nynaeve is taking this time in the infirmary to portion out and label more of her simples, tisanes, and poultices for general use.

Her hair -- shorn now to her shoulders -- is pinned up, and she wears a yellow-fringed shawl on her shoulders.

" -- for headache," she mutters to herself, writing down dosage instructions in neat, even letters. "One cup at need, no longer than a week."

Comments

[bloodyvirgo]

"Shush Now, she tells him, absently tugging up the blanket the narration will say was at the foot of the bed. "You're Not Dead, And Be Careful How You Speak About My Moirail."

[stridersgonnastride]

He stares at her blankly. "you're morailing... moirail... mwa rail-

"fuck. you're moray eeling alternate universe karkat"