Atani clutched her aching shoulder as she tread through the forest just outside of Hargeon. The fabric she had used to slow the bleeding was becoming full. Her fingertips touched the material, and upon lifting them, she could see they were tainted red. Ideally, in this sort of situation she would have gone to the doctor's or a healer-- a stab wound was no laughing matter-- but elves were creatures of determination. For Atani, this was teamed with an infallible stubbornness. It was a combination that resulted in situations like these, but it also bore plentiful fruits of her labor.
Even now, she refused to get help, for why would she? She was a healer. She had been able to use healing spells just fine when she practiced nature magic. There was no reason her magic would fail her now, and if she couldn't bring herself to heal a stab wound, how could she ever expect herself to be a successful mage? One way or another, Atani was determined to get her water magic to work, or she would pass out of blood loss. Whichever came first. She at least had to make an effort.
It was why she had retreated to the forest. Being a Wood Elf, the trees were her element, not the sands on the beach or the salty waves. She came across a freshwater stream in the woods and bent down. Her legs were shaky and her head swam during the process, but once she was safely on the forest floor, the weakness subsided. She carefully undid the fabric around her shoulder to reveal the fresh stab wound she received from some pirates just an hour before. She cupped a hand beneath the river water and brought it up to her flesh. Using a combination of that infused with her water magic, she tried to heal her wound.