[center] [h1] [color=d72525] Sergio della Gherardesca [/color] [/h1] [/center]

I raise an eyebrow as she responds, beckoning me over and inviting me on the journey to the healer's tent. Silly to say, I flash a smile in the midst of the deafening pain. It [i]is[/i] often the simple things that raise you after such an ordeal.

[color=d72525] "Your magic may have won us the battle." [/color] I say, simply, lowering my arm anyway. I hobble with as much faux firmness as I can muster, oozing the last dredges of confidence buried in. The broken bird act was a pitiful one, and not one I'd ever employ.

[color=d72525] "There's much I rely on Mayon to...forgive me for, eh?" [/color] I chuckle, watching Amy's hoarse curse beneath her breath. [color=d72525] "But there's much we give her for her to be thankful. I think that's true." [/color]

A nod as she looks to my own injuries. [color=d72525] "A good meal would heal my injuries faster, though." [/color]

It is truly a dire time when imagining the smell of Father's pasta dish is hard. 

[@6slyboy6]