Closing her eyes, Noir feels the tattoo curl up her back and down her sleeve. It materializes as it reaches her fingertips and forms its worldly figure. She opens her eyes and peers sadly down at the proud pseudodragon. It grips life softly in it's claws, yet the burns and gashes covering its body have finally begun to heal.
Noir lays it gently on her bed and crouches next to it. Watching as it breathes in with sharp gasps. Placing a hand on the creature's chest, she speaks. "Don't worry little one. I can see that you are better today."
Hearing her voice, the pseudodragon opens one eye and focuses it with the speed of a predator. Yet this action seems to tire it and soon the eyelid slides over it's black pupil.
As the creature sleeps, Noir cleans its wounds and mashes together the herbs the old druid gave her. The pseudodragon stirs softly as she rubs these on it's skin. She feels the creatures thoughts and pains as it tries to sleep.
She finishes tending the wounds and raises a small piece of mutton to the creature's mouth. Again its eyes spring open. She places the meat on its tongue, and for a moment the creature seems fully alive. The sides of its mouth smile slightly with the taste of the meat, revealing the fangs beneath.
Once the creature has eaten the pieces she had saved for it, Noir places her fingers again on the creature and it curls once more up her arm and down her back, returning to it's tattooed form.
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