[D3 EE] Scar

[Jack Doyle]

"I make all sorts of things." he said. "Toys are just what I'm best at."

His keen eyes had caught the movement. He imagined the orchard would be receiving a number of visitors today.

[Samantha Hayne]

She noticed the others then. Strangers in the land of normality, as she was. The short one perhaps, drew the most attention; if only for the surface similarities between herself and the other puppet-like changeling. For a moment, she wondered if perhaps he had been another one of Mother's children. But no, upon second glance, he did not look the part.

So, she felt safe to approach. Which she did. Affording them all the time and opportunity to take note of the fact before she came close enough to speak.

"De evening air draws many here, non? Or other *tings*, perhaps."

[Chantelle Rossette]

Smiling, cautious but graceful, "evenin', I daresay it a fell nigh'." The egret moved closer to Jack, almost protectively, "Chantelle Rossette, a pleasure."

[Samantha Hayne]

"Samantha Hayne," she said, looking between the two of them. Though it was autumn, the mantle she carried of that same season wasn't too hard to notice. The occasionaly dead leaf floating by her could be explained through the time of year; but the occasional flicker of a candle, the small pufts of black smoke that seemed to form around her from time to time... these were harder to dismiss, and simply *felt* like they came from the Autumn Court.

[Jack Doyle]

"I'm Jack." he introduced himself. "I think many may visit the orchards tonight, for one thing or another."

[Samantha Hayne]

"A gift from de King of Apples, not without a price. He is a ting of shadow and red. Saw him last night, me."

She looked down at the still bleeding wound on her hand.

"De other way might've been worse."

[Chantelle Rossette]

Indicating to the wound, “may I?” Chantelle offered.

[Samantha Hayne]

She did not seem to mind; rather than use her words, she simply held out her hand toward the bird-woman. It was a good thing she was no crow.

[Jack Doyle]

"His apples were distributed pretty wide." Jack looked around the orchard. "I saw several affected in one way or another today."

[Chantelle Rossette]

Chantelle clucked her tongue, murmuring a soft song to herself and smoothing her fingers over the laceration. Where she touched, an ointment formed, cooling and soothing, smelling earthy and peaty. The doll’s flesh-but-not-flesh seemed to heal before their eyes, ravaged muscles and ligaments binding themselves back together. It took only a moment, and Samatha was left with little more than scratch and a lingering pain that would be fine in a half hour or so.

Satisfied, “mais, dat’s betta.”


——
[D3 EE] Gift of Even More Warm Blood (Wits 3, Medicine 2, Mantle 3): 8d10o10h8 4

Both of Sam’s wounds are downgraded to Bashing.
1 Glamour Spent
1 Willpower Spent