In the aftermath of the battle the Infirmary was filled to overflowing, its staff overstretched and desperately tallying the casualties incurred on either side. Such influence as the Orphanage Gang had, though, had procured a small cubicle in a far corner, blessedly empty of the impromptu trundle beds sported by every other room.
Three plastic chairs and a bed, in traditional clinical greens and white. The morning Centra sunlight had bleached all further colour from the room, and Quistis sat staring unseeing at the over-illuminated form of the room's sole patient. Their face was near grey, dark hair limp against the pillow; if the machines set up by the bed hadn't been beeping steady reassurance the blonde would have been checking for vital signs.
It was her shift, a watch organised unspoken by the group, to encourage their Commander to sleep occasionally. Exhausted, Squall slumped in one of those chairs, balanced precariously on its back legs and braced against a corner. Two days, since that final battle against the Sorceress -- their Matron, she reminded herself. Two days since Rinoa had sunk away from the conscious world, and two days since any of them had slept for more than a few hours at a time.
Selphie appeared at the doorway, a pair of steaming styrofoam cups balanced in her hand. "You need to get out of here," she informed the blonde, lowered voice holding only a hint of its usual exuberance. She shook her head to interrupt Quistis' protest, slipping one of the cups into her friend's hand. "I'll watch her from here - after all, that way when she wakes up I'll get to see and I'll brag about it forever. Take him - he's not moved since we got her in here."
Frowning, Quistis turned a glance at Squall as if to emphasise that the brunette wasn't going to be moved by anything short of Rinoa's awakening - then realised Selphie had been referring to the mutt at the end of the bed.
Never fond of dogs, she'd been close to protesting when the animal invaded the sterile cleanliness of the infirmary, but one look at Squall, Rinoa cradled limply in his arms, and she'd relented. Now she turned to look at the collie, and as if aware of their regard he tilted his head, tail raising a moment.
Pets needed exercise, she knew that, and surely one as big as Angelo more so; reluctantly she stood. "Angelo," she said, imitating Rinoa's chirping tones as well as she could, "it's walkies time." She reached out to stroke the dog's head - softer than she'd expected for all the rolling in mud he seemed to do, given a chance.
Angelo's ears perked at The Word; while something in his liquid eyes made it clear he didn't for a moment mistake Quistis for his mistress, he bounded to his feet - and promptly gave the blonde's face a thorough washing.
Spluttering in only slightly-feigned disgust, the blonde glared at Selphie - who didn't bother to wipe the wicked grin from her lips - and went in search of a towel. The canine leapt from Rinoa's bed and followed, claws clicking against the linoleum flooring and tail high.
FFVIII: Quistis/Angelo
In the aftermath of the battle the Infirmary was filled to overflowing, its staff overstretched and desperately tallying the casualties incurred on either side. Such influence as the Orphanage Gang had, though, had procured a small cubicle in a far corner, blessedly empty of the impromptu trundle beds sported by every other room.
Three plastic chairs and a bed, in traditional clinical greens and white. The morning Centra sunlight had bleached all further colour from the room, and Quistis sat staring unseeing at the over-illuminated form of the room's sole patient. Their face was near grey, dark hair limp against the pillow; if the machines set up by the bed hadn't been beeping steady reassurance the blonde would have been checking for vital signs.
It was her shift, a watch organised unspoken by the group, to encourage their Commander to sleep occasionally. Exhausted, Squall slumped in one of those chairs, balanced precariously on its back legs and braced against a corner. Two days, since that final battle against the Sorceress -- their Matron, she reminded herself. Two days since Rinoa had sunk away from the conscious world, and two days since any of them had slept for more than a few hours at a time.
Selphie appeared at the doorway, a pair of steaming styrofoam cups balanced in her hand. "You need to get out of here," she informed the blonde, lowered voice holding only a hint of its usual exuberance. She shook her head to interrupt Quistis' protest, slipping one of the cups into her friend's hand. "I'll watch her from here - after all, that way when she wakes up I'll get to see and I'll brag about it forever. Take him - he's not moved since we got her in here."
Frowning, Quistis turned a glance at Squall as if to emphasise that the brunette wasn't going to be moved by anything short of Rinoa's awakening - then realised Selphie had been referring to the mutt at the end of the bed.
Never fond of dogs, she'd been close to protesting when the animal invaded the sterile cleanliness of the infirmary, but one look at Squall, Rinoa cradled limply in his arms, and she'd relented. Now she turned to look at the collie, and as if aware of their regard he tilted his head, tail raising a moment.
Pets needed exercise, she knew that, and surely one as big as Angelo more so; reluctantly she stood. "Angelo," she said, imitating Rinoa's chirping tones as well as she could, "it's walkies time." She reached out to stroke the dog's head - softer than she'd expected for all the rolling in mud he seemed to do, given a chance.
Angelo's ears perked at The Word; while something in his liquid eyes made it clear he didn't for a moment mistake Quistis for his mistress, he bounded to his feet - and promptly gave the blonde's face a thorough washing.
Spluttering in only slightly-feigned disgust, the blonde glared at Selphie - who didn't bother to wipe the wicked grin from her lips - and went in search of a towel. The canine leapt from Rinoa's bed and followed, claws clicking against the linoleum flooring and tail high.
...maybe she could get used to walkies.