[Dictated]

[lightbranded]

 [Will woke to the bitterness of ashes on his lips and the stain of blood on his sleeve.  Blood which had soaked through from the scar on his arm in the very familiar shape of a perfect circle quartered with a cross.  The same shape that had been marked on his arm like a brand during his first encounter with the Dark. 

It had been a burn, long ago. One that had been healed by the Lady herself.

This wasn't possible. Will knew that.  Nor was the faint powdering of white ash on his hands that left a trail of white dust on everything he touched,

But Will doesn't panic or cry out. He very sensibly wraps a towel around his arm and presses on it in an attempt to stop the bleeding. And then he reaches for his journal, not caring in this moment that he was leaving fingerprints of white ash on the page.]

I am wondering if anyone has any spare bandages and some time?  I'm afraid this might be a little difficult to handle, myself. 

[But with these tasks done, Will curled in on himself with grief.  He suspected what these signs might mean.  White ashes for regret, wasn't it? Blood from a wound that would forever mark him. It did not take the wisdom of an Old One to read the meaning here.]

Comments

[songsandstories]

I am no maester, but if something is wrong, mayhaps you should seek the clinic. If it is just wrapping wounds-- I could be of service.

[lightbranded]

I do not think that the clinic could do much for this. [Will's response is slow and thoughtful.] Mostly I just need a second set of hands.

[Ones that weren't covered in ashes.]

[songsandstories]

I can come to you if that is all you need. I've no real skill to speak of.

[lightbranded]

It is really alright. I haven't much skill in this myself. [Will was being very sensible about the whole thing. Deal with the effect first. What it meant could be handled at the right time.]

It is only that my arm is bleeding, and I need some help to wrap it.

[songsandstories]

If you do not mind the state I am in, I can help. Where are you?

[lightbranded]

The state you are in? Have you been affected by this as well?

I am in the lobby, right now.

[songsandstories]

It has ruined my dress. I shall be there soon though.

[She heads to the lobby, journal in hand. She doesn't know what the boy looks like, but she can look out for someone injured. Wearing a simple dress, her hair is pinned up. It looks like it's wet, red save for the brown coloring that is dripping from it, sliding down to her neck.]

[lightbranded]

[She'll find a boy sitting alone on one of the couches with ashes on his lips and hands. He has his left hand holding a towel against his right forearm, where blood has already stained his shirt. Strangely, the blood is forming the shape of a circle quartered by a cross, almost as if the injury on his arm was shaped that way.]

[songsandstories]

[She finds him. He's not much younger than she is. She dips her head, curtsying lightly.]

I'm A-Alayne. [She stumbles over her name, feeling guilty.] Are you the one who asked for help?

[lightbranded]

[Will was thirteen, and short for his age. Yet, in his eyes there was some wisdom or awareness that belonged to someone much older.

He nods his head to her politely.]

How do you do? I am Will Stanton. And yes, it was me. My arm is bleeding, I'm afraid.

[songsandstories]

[Sansa is fifteen, but as Alayne, she says sixteen. She is tall and slender, with auburn hair that looks like it is bleeding brown. She has a gentle disposition to her with kind, blue eyes. Her head dips before she tries to look at his arm.]

If you tell me what to do, I can help you.

[lightbranded]

I don't suppose you have anything that would work better as a bandage than this towel? I'm afraid I didn't have much at hand when this started.

[songsandstories]

[She shows him the thick cloth she bought, some material left over from a winter dress she finished.]

I hope this would work.

[lightbranded]

I think it should. [Will carefully keeps his hands (and the layer of ash covering them) from touching the new cloth. But he does set the towel aside and roll up his sleeve, revealing am area on his upper inside forearm stained with blood. Barely visible beneath the blood is an old burn scar like a brand. Shaped like a circle quartered by a cross.]

[songsandstories]

[Her touch is tender, and she moves to wrap the cloth around his arm.]

Does it hurt terribly?

[lightbranded]

It doesn't hurt at all. That's the odd part.

[songsandstories]

How strange. [She looks over the mark one last time as she wraps over it. Curiosity gets the better of her.]

Does it mean something? [She mentally chastises herself. She keeps her own life private. Who is she to ask him?]

That was terribly rude. Please forgive me.

[lightbranded]

[He shakes his head.]

I don't mind. It is an odd shape for a burn, isn't it? I burned it on a project in my shop class. Goodness, it must have been two years ago now.

[The same lie he had once told his sister. In truth, his arm had been injured when it brushed against the sign of iron as it had blazed in warning against the Dark.]

[songsandstories]

[She has no reason to not believe him. She doesn't know what shop class is, but she understands enough. If it is a lie, she doesn't know it. Besides she's already lied to him. Who would she be to judge?]

It looks like a brand. [She says offhand before finishing the wrap. She takes a pin from her hair, a small pearl on it, and secures it.]

There.

[lightbranded]

It is in a way, I suppose. Isn't a brand similar to a burn?

[He tests the makeshift bandage, and watches as the pattern of the crossed circle appears in blood once more on the fabric. But it seems to slow once the symbol forms.]

Thank you very much. I think this should work.

[songsandstories]

A brand is intended, I think. [Not that she knows much about cattle or farming. She's a lord's daughter.

Frowning when she sees the blood seep through, she looks back at him.]

I have more cloth in my room if you need any.

[lightbranded]

I might. [He frowns at his arm. This was all very strange. Was it possible that to show these markings was the point of this? But why? What gain would there be from such a thing?]

Ah, but I suppose I can try leaving it for a bit to see if it slows. It is cleaner now, at least.

[songsandstories]

[She dips her head.]

I am glad I could help.

[lightbranded]

It was very kind of you, really.

[songsandstories]

I am only glad that I could help. [And she means it. She bows her head with a gentle smile.]

[lightbranded]

[He inclines his head back to her, with a kind of dignity that belonged more to an old man than to a child of his age.]

[songsandstories]

Are you in need of anything else?

[lightbranded]

This is all I could think of, thanks.

[songsandstories]

[She bows her head.] You are most welcome. I am glad I could come to your aide.