[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/NYrpWli.png[/img]
[@Silvan Haven][@Crimmy][@Write][/center]

[b]"With pleasure."[/b]

I stabbed down with the tack again, really digging it in the to get at that blood vessel for all I was worth. Presented with Gratia's impassive eyes and outstretched, bloodied palm, I pulled the tack free—

And before the wound closed, swiped my finger across the cut, feeling my own blood track against hers.

And the effects were nothing short of immediate. As if I had pulled a zipper shut, as if I had rewound time, the Gratia's hand knit itself closed in a manner I had seen so often on my own.

[i]Gratia's[/i] hand healed.

[i]I was right![/i]

[color=9D36FF]"Get it done."[/color] Bianca said, her voice brooking no dissent.

Well, far be it from me to not want to show off.

Uh, show off how good my bleeding is?

Just get on with it, me.

[b]"You've got it."[/b]

I reached for a wing—

And realized my wound had closed.

These little pinpricks faded way too fast! It would take ages if I had to keep nicking myself!

As if sensing my distress, Gratia presented me with her cutlass, blade turned invitingly upwards.

[b]"Ah, thanksssss!"[/b] I said, hissing in pain as I drew my palm along the edge. [b]"That'll speed this up!"[/b]

I turned back to Bianca. [b]"Ready?"[/b]

A solemn nod was my only response. It was now or never. I hadn't even stopped to consider if the injury being more established would change things, and by now, it was too late to.

I wiped my palm across a bare patch of her left wing, and waited.

At first, it looked like nothing was happening.

I scrutinized it harder, peering intently.

Come on...

[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JRzV9axHXJE]Then there was a pin.[/url]

Transclucent, hard to see in the light I had against the mass of her wing—

Followed by another, then another, and then dozens of them.

My eyes widened.

The pins grew white, now fully distinct.

Then they became tufts.

Then they became down.

And then, some of them, amongst the others that had grown out less— were small feathers.

I didn't dare breathe.

Reaching my hand forward as if I were threading a needle, I took one of the largest that had grown, what would probably be a flight feather once it had fully recovered, and gave a soft tug. 

[b]"Hey... you feel that?"[/b]

It worked.

[i]It worked![/i]