Ash Lake

"Master, your… hand… what did - ?" was the last few words I managed to make out before Ash just flew completely off the handle. The always eloquent, always articulate, wordsmith of an Elf was immediately reduced to weird tongue spasms like she was trying to say every word together at the same time, only to just wind up causing a big freak accident of dyslexic proportions.

Maybe Adalia had the right idea for suddenly jumping ship when she did because Ash was seething heavy, like the lake was practically boiling all around her. 

Yet her touch was soft, her fingers gentle, my wounded hand in hers. It didn't look as bad nor did it sting as much as before, yet Ash was convinced unequivocally that Adalia had just straight up lopped the entirety of my left arm off its socket indiscriminately  . 

She was still muttering, going off on a vehement, slurry tirade, but she quickly lost me as a listening audience the moment I strayed my eyes away from her face.