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[night_hibiscus]

There's a trick to everything.

There's a trick to healing, Yuna learned long ago; to gently shifting the stream of magic, letting like find unlike and spin themselves out until the pyreflies she channels are aligned to no element, simply sinking into the lifeforce of the patient and shifting the body's healing into overdrive

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[called_lioness]

There's a trick to healing.

Everyone has their own, and Lucy has hers.

It's not just in cordial--and even here that's for last resort, that's to use on the worst, because sooner or later magic cordial will run out and Lucy's hands are good at bandaging here, at stitching there, as good as they are at putting just a drop on the burns, on the deep gashes she can't stitch up.

Part of the trick is, when she's at her limit, when the worst, the ones who were near dying, that she could help have been helped already, to mentally beg forgiveness from anyone who might hurt longer for a break and step outside and into the quiet and away from the weeping.

She could stay longer, and she knows, from experience, that it's not always best to push yourself all the way. For others' sakes as much as your own.

When she sees Yuna, Lucy stops, for a minute, and then walks over and stands next to the other girl, not saying anything right away.

[night_hibiscus]

Yuna's leaning over a rail, and her face is hidden behind her hair; she feels Lucy's presence before she sees it. It takes her a moment to be able to look up.

"Hello."

[called_lioness]

"Hullo."

It's soft, as Lucy wipes absently at her hands with a spare rag she'd picked up somewhere along the way.

She's silent for a minute before asking, "How are you?"

[night_hibiscus]

"I'll be okay."

"Do you ever wish you could fly?"