I'm looking at you through the glass
_{don't know how much time has passed}

Okay, she was very lucky that she had not been as injured as she was, but Torryn was not sure that she wanted to do this again, she was thinking about changing jobs, but just because she wanted this to be easier. She wanted to not worry if she would be coming home to her daughter, she wanted to not be scared and wondering if she was going to die. It was hard enough getting through the day sometimes and not getting hurt. It wasn't something that she wanted to ever have to do and the thought of leaving her baby girl in the care of Greyson, or either of their parents scared her.

The slicing hex had not been too bad and she had been fixed up but was told that she needed to take a few days off. Which she supposed was good, because she could go and talk to Greyson's parents about him moving in with her. She wasn't going to be able to keep taking care of him like this and she was tired of cleaning up after him and Hunter. Yes, he had been her fiance, but it had been a long while now since she had worn her ring, it had been a long time since she had let herself cry over him. He was his own man, he would be okay, but she didn't have the time to try and make him love her again, and she wasn't sure that she wanted to.

A certain witch who worked in the hospital had been plaguing her mind as of late worked in the hospital if her mind was right and she wasn't sure that she could even find her, but Torryn had been thinking about her since their speed date. She was beautiful and probably not even interested in someone like her. She wouldn't blame her really if she wasn't, but Torryn was tired of being lonely. Maybe she would...

Wait. That was her!

Jogging a little she caught up to the woman and smiled as she looked over at her. "Hey you." She probably came off as more familiar that someone that she had met for five minutes almost two months before, but she didn't hide the smile on her face, though she had a feeling the other witch would notice her bandage.

tag: Zahava Yael Azoulay // words: 391 // OUTFIT

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[attr="class","title-zahava"] Through Glass

[attr="class","subtitle-zahava"] When thought came from the heart
It never did right from the start
Just listen to the noises

[attr="class","wordz-zahava"]Zahava had been having a pretty usual day. There was a kid who had needed the distraction of magic more than usual, and Zahava had supplied, wandless and nonverbal magic giving that sort of little spark necessary for children. The poor boy had shattered his kneecap, and shed been able to fix that, luckily. Luckily, because the parents had almost tried a Healing spell or three of their own, and from their reactions, Zahava was sure the spell would have done far more harm than good.

Admittedly, she didn't know enough of their spellcaster's Latin to know if it would truly have harmed, but she was a Healer and thus always was a pessimist when assuming what untrained mages could do. She knew that several would be surprised at the variety that she'd been taught to use, what seemed to be a jumbled mess of Aramaic, Hebrew, and Arabic, so she wouldn't judge their complete and singular spellcasting language. They were lucky did they have, that, did they know?

Zahava straightened her robes. She ought to change, and really, she was heading off to do so, when someone called out for her. Her usual Patient Smile was fixed in place at once, and then slipped and deepened as she recognized the woman. She made it her mission to remember names and faces after all-- in such a small country as home, it was important to know if her dance partner in the club had been a patient or not. "Torryn! It's good to see you again. . .though why are you here?" She gave a sigh, seeing the bandage. "Don't tell me it was the job. How bad was it this time?"

She was walking around, her eyes seemed aware enough, and she trusted her comrades-in-healing enough that they wouldn't be letting a patient roam wild when they were in trouble. "And tell me the truth-- how much am I washed out in this green?"

[attr="class","tags-zahava"]☆ @torryn , 324 words ☆

[attr="class","credz1"]❤fai

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I'm looking at you through the glass
_{don't know how much time has passed}

It had once been something so easy to get up in the morning and go to work without a second thought. It had once been the happier parts of her day because she was usually partnered with a friend, or with Greyson. She didn't mind it, the work, she didn't mind the hours or the stakeouts, or the duels that the job involved. Many of the assailants were extremely easy to outsmart and it made things go much faster. She didn't like sitting on cases for a long period of time and she was known for being slightly aggressive in her tactics when it came to doing things. She had been the 'bad cop' to Greyson's 'good cop'. Those were the days, and thoughts of that would usually make her laugh. She had had fun doing it.

Things had changed, and she was finding that whether she liked it or not, she was changing too. She was getting older, she was trying hard to make sure that the life that her kid had was the life that she deserved, that she did not go without out, and though she hated to put Hunter into daycare Torryn knew that it was better than putting her with her grandmother. Either of them. They needed to live the life that they had now, and not worry about looking after a child that was not theirs. Thankfully the older women understood, but her mother constantly was begging her to find another job, to do something less dangerous. Torryn did not understand since she rarely got hurt, but she had always been pushing Torryn to be a healer again, and that wasn't something that she really wanted to have to do.

A smile formed on her face as the other witch said her name and she found her face heating a little before the witch spoke again. Tucking hair behind her ear she nodded slowly. "It was, sadly. The assailant got me with a slicing hex, but they said it shouldn't leave a scar. " She had heard that before though, and she knew it was bullshit, but she had a prescription for a scar salve that should get rid of any of it (and hopefully some others). She knew this probably wouldn't change how upset the other woman would get though and she hated the idea of that, but there was nothing that she could do about it now. Maybe her mother was right, and she needed to go back to being a healer, but it was just as dangerous at times. She could literally count on one hand how many times she had been stabbed with something while helping a patient.

tag: Zahava Yael Azoulay // words: 448 // OUTFIT

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