recovering

Without knocking or announcing his presence, Ma'zura slipped in to Geargo's house. Dressed in a high, black boots and a long teal tunic, the calico quietly moved across the floor, trying not to disturb the cathay-raht resting on the bed as he moved to settle next to it.

The calico waited patiently, quietly. When Geargo tried to sit up, he moved over, his lissome form kneeling to embrace him. "Shh! Rest! This one was out of town for the attack, worry about Geargo now." He sighed and looked down at his convalescant freind and strokes his cheek. "You will be okay, yes?"

Zura's golden eyes disappeared behind white lids as he nodded. "This one will do what he can to help Geargo recover," he promises, stroking the other khajiit's cheek affectionately.

"This one does not need money for this," he replies, sitting back in the chair with half-lidded eyes. "He will keep his freinds company without payment." The lissome calico laughed softly and he patted Geargos' shoulder. "Just go back to resting and recovering."

Sylvaswift knocked on Gear's door quietly, in case he was a sleep. It was a hot sunny day and the bright sunlight hurt his head terribly, the black khajiit very under-the-weather from drinking too much the night before and his stomach very queasy. Sylvaswift listened to hear if anyone was inside. Desperately trying to not hurl on the front doorstep, and considering seriously lying down right there and having a sleep before returning to the manor.

Sylvaswift heard Argo's pained voice call out and entered. Poking his head round the door gingerly, avoiding sudden moves nursing his self-inflicted headache.

"It is just me, old friend." Sylvaswift spoke softly. "I hope I am not disturbing you rest."

"I wanted to see how you were doing. I apologise that I was not even aware you were hurt... I have been very distracted by, things. I have been a poor friend. This is a new thing for me, you see; friendship that is."

Sylva's stomach lurched a little as he moved to take a seat, and his head ached as his brain felt like it banged against his skull.

"My friend... say nothing of it. How are you feeling? You mending well?"

The black khajiit sat slowly and purposefully and gradually slid to a relaxed position upon the chair. He was thankful to be inside out of the sun and considered staying right there in that chair, until his body recovered fully from his abuse of it, before he attempting to return to his house.

Bbigeargo and his suffering did a fine job at least, of keeping his longing thoughts away from Sumar for the time being.

Sylvaswift glanced a the bottle Argo pointed at and chuckled also. "Do I look that bad? I... should of course do my penance... but maybe not, yes?" He rose slowly and reached for the bottle uncorking it he took a swig, and then another - and one more for good measure. With a smack of his lips and an exaggerated sigh he put the cork back in its neck and returned it to its resting place.

((Is fine keep going if you want ))

"To be entirely truthful my friend, I have felt better." Sylvaswift smiled weakly. "Self-induced though - I confess. I will recover though, do not concern yourself."

"Of course friend, I know this. Besides it is I that came to visit you... although in hindsight I should have perhaps waited until I was in better shape, yes? Nevermind I am here now." Sylvaswift smiled. He hoped the mixture Bbigeargo had pointed him to would help his condition quickly, he made a mental note not to use alcohol again to mask his anxiety.

Changing the topic he asked, "Have you heard from Jason lately?"