The edge of the woods is his domain. As much as he likes other people a healer bound to the elements must be among them. That's fine by him and to the woods he lives by.
Galo glances at the sky as he sits on the edge of his window with his staff resting against his shoulder. A staff is a traditional symbol. Most healers these days don't use them. But when he'd finally been accepted he'd walked into the woods and let them guide him until a tree gave him his staff. He taps it against his shoulder as the sounds inside his home tell him his patient is awake.
His house has two beds, his own tucked away in the back of the house and the patient bed, it isn't far from the window. The floor is made of stone, and the shelves have some books but mostly every space that's safe to allow it has something growing there.
Galo is a tall man, corded with muscle and etched in the blue green tattoos that form vines and whorls of water over his chest and back. Another traditional symbol of his craft. One no one forgets. To be inked in such a way to make a pact with the earth and mother nature never likes to be double crossed.
He drops back into the house and gently lays his staff against the edge of the window. "Oh, you're awake. Thought you'd be down a little longer." Galo crosses the stone floor and sits on the edge of the bed the air growing lighter around him as he gathers magic to him, tapping his own reserves. He'd used so much last night to pull this man from the edge of death.
"You're lucky. The elements don't scream for a healer that often, but they did it for you. But don't try moving around much. You lost a lot of blood and you're still full of holes."
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2020-04-29 05:34 am (UTC)Galo glances at the sky as he sits on the edge of his window with his staff resting against his shoulder. A staff is a traditional symbol. Most healers these days don't use them. But when he'd finally been accepted he'd walked into the woods and let them guide him until a tree gave him his staff. He taps it against his shoulder as the sounds inside his home tell him his patient is awake.
His house has two beds, his own tucked away in the back of the house and the patient bed, it isn't far from the window. The floor is made of stone, and the shelves have some books but mostly every space that's safe to allow it has something growing there.
Galo is a tall man, corded with muscle and etched in the blue green tattoos that form vines and whorls of water over his chest and back. Another traditional symbol of his craft. One no one forgets. To be inked in such a way to make a pact with the earth and mother nature never likes to be double crossed.
He drops back into the house and gently lays his staff against the edge of the window. "Oh, you're awake. Thought you'd be down a little longer." Galo crosses the stone floor and sits on the edge of the bed the air growing lighter around him as he gathers magic to him, tapping his own reserves. He'd used so much last night to pull this man from the edge of death.
"You're lucky. The elements don't scream for a healer that often, but they did it for you. But don't try moving around much. You lost a lot of blood and you're still full of holes."