Cherry Bomb

AFTERNOON | SUNNY
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Luckily fate had a morbidly funny way of forcing the Zabrak's hand... literally.
"Yo, someone help me please!" Ara spoke up as she stormed into the Halls of Healing at a brisk pace, clutching her left arm against her body as gingerly as she could. Her watery eyes quickly found the Mirialan and she rushed over with a strained smile. "Hey, what's up. You mind helping me out, please? Like... karkin' for real, this is hurtin' like a harpy right now." She rambled as she gestured to her arm. The forearm had a disconcerting bend in the middle, her skin was an uncomfortable shade of purple, and a deep gash was causing a mess even through the greasy towel pressed against it.
"I wanted to come see you anyway, but holy kriff this is painful, can you just do the magic hand thing real quick for me?" She continued with her strained smile unwavering. "If ya don't mind, I'm just gonna keep talkin' 'cause for some reason it hurts less when I'm talkin' so don't mind me..."