[Generosity] DON'T DEHYDRATE YOU $%@#% [Witch/Mercy]

[Ruriska]

It was a blazing hot day and Witch Hazel had foolishly forgotten to wear a hat. At least she could say she wasn't the one who had chosen to run beneath such a harsh sun and she had an endless supply of water to keep her hydrated. The young filly couldn't say much for the decision so many people had made to participate in a marathon on such a hot day but she wasn't her place to judge their foolishness.

Thanks to a flyer from school, she had volunteered to be one of the helpers at the water station. At various places along the course tables had been set up and piled high with water for the runners to grab. She and the others would be responsible for handing them out and then cleaning up after them as well.

The first aid station was also nearby and she was keeping a keen eye on the comings and goings. They weren't interested in the opinions of a kid, especially since her way of dealing with a scrape or sore ankle was somewhat unorthodox but she did like to watch how they tended to the hurt.

Somewhere the race had begun and the call went out to be prepared.

They were further along the course so Witch Hazel didn't immediately focus, instead she put out some more bottles and looked about at the small group she'd been assigned to.

"You have a very thankless day ahead of you."

The pink colt's statement was matter-of-fact but without malice, simply stating a fact in the way one might say that garbage stinks - absent of sympathy, and bordering a warning.  Grey eyes regarded the unusual filly with dispassionate interest, clinical but attentive, noting her swampy, ghostly appearance as what was probably normal for her and not a cause of concern for him.  Thank goodness.  He wasn't sure what good chiding a ghost-Phony would do.

He wore a small badge around his neck that denoted him as part of the first aid crew, but he chose to instead traipse near her booth, because preventing injuries was the first step in practicing medicine.  Some idiots - like the ones running in dogged heat for a marathon - could not be trusted to be smart enough to prepare, and thus, he took it upon himself to be where he was not supposed to, because it was his job.  End of story.

Of course, he didn't share an inkling of that out loud just yet, looking over towards those already in action with lazy disinterest.  "I'm not sure who is more unfortunate - they, who choose to do this to themselves, or we, who must tend to their foolish decision."

She immediately stopped what she was doing, her pale eyed gaze falling on the pink colt and assessing him in much the same way he had looked at her. He looked close to her age but the first aid badge was very apparent, which meant they considered him skilled enough to look after someone who had managed to hurt themselves. That was fine. Well done to him.

He certainly seemed the sort that would be trusted by adults. There was very little child in him, as far as she could tell from a first look. Those grey eyes were much older than his years.

Witch Hazel pushed another bottle into position as she replied. "We have also chosen to be here," she told him. "It was my desire to offer support to the foolish. I would not call myself unfortunate for making this decision." She gave a soft barely there smile as the first runners appeared. Many of them ignored the water. But once they looped around, they were bound to be desperate.

"I require no thanks. Do you?"

Mercy arched an immediate brow at the other's response - the sheer confidence of it that lacked arrogance, the comfort of knowing one's self and mind.  He was quietly impressed, and almost would have thought to have been looking in a mirror - if he possessed an iota of fondness, anyway.  For this brand of madness, he was most assuredly absent in that department.

"I do not.  But - " he paused on the word to use, deciding to include the patient filly, " - we are not like most."  Stormy eyes slid to the side as the runners bypassed them, probably thinking the two babbens cute or quaint for their presence.  If he cared, he'd probably fly up and drop kick them in the face, but that would require more of his time and efforts.  Unacceptable.

He moved next to her without invitation or qualm, sitting in the meager shade the small booth offered.  "I wouldn't say I support them, however.  I'm just here to make sure they don't over-do it, and if they do, make sure they understand how idiotic they are."  There was a brief, ever-so-light smile that formed, almost more like a grimace of discomfort before it was gone again.  "Not many our age can say that."  He shrugged, looking over to her again, appraising, trying to see if there were any cracks or weak spots in this supposed mission.  "What's your plan, then?  To get them to drink."

[Ruriska]

We are not like most. And so he thought them similar, did he? Witch Hazel had to agree. They were both possessed with more wisdom than their appearance suggested and were seeking to aid others without care for praise. She liked that. It felt good to have an ally on this battlefield.

"Though it's unlikely, I hope the reprimands you dish out give them even a moment of self-reflection," she said with half a smile. Then she blinked thoughtfully at his question, her gaze flicking to the water and the runners beyond.

"I didn't think I would need one. I am here with water if they require it." She gave a small shrug. "You can lead a Phony to water but you can't make them drink. And if they ignore the screaming need of their body, then they get passed on to you... or pass out, whichever comes first."

@Chrys

[Chrys]

A soft snort answers the comment, though there's a hint of a smile that accompanies it.  Someone hoping his reprimand works?  Mercy wouldn't say it out loud just yet, but he rather liked this one.  Maybe this wouldn't be such a slough after all.

Another runner approaches as Mercy puts their front hooves on the table, waiting until they're closer, not about to raise his voice.  If it came to that, they'd already be in trouble.  "Hydrate," is all he says, but his expression is flat and far from welcoming.  The runner simply gives the crazy looking child an alarmed double-take, never breaking stride.

Mercy tsks softly and settles down again.  "It's a miracle they survived to be Old Enough."  Casting his gaze towards the other, he concedes her last point with a shrug of one wither.  "Maybe both, but certainly passed out, if they're lucky.  They'll wish they were if I have to take care of them."

There's a comfortable pause as he looks out over the road and the runners.  After a long moment, he remarks off-handedly, "I'm Mercy."

@Ruri