The carefree smile Roland had pressed onto his features slipped as the mare turned towards him and interrupted herself with a cry of shock, stepping towards him with large eyes. Did he really look that horrid? The stallion flinched away as she approached, eyes as wide as her own. He was surprised at how suddenly she felt at ease around him, fretting over his wound as if he were a friend; ignoring the possibility that he could be a sly killer steeped in the colour of his trade. As she stared in horror at his neck, he gave her a comforting smile in an effort to put her more at ease. “Don’t worry; it’s just a bit of blood. I’m sure the cut isn’t as bad as it looks,” he said softly, in between her outbursts.

Her mention of the Time Mender cast his mind back to the Basin, making him feel suddenly weary. He wasn’t ready for the long journey back to the herd, and would rather enjoy this small bit of sun before returning to winter’s chilling embrace. Besides, he had the mare’s doting company to help pass the time. She still seemed transfixed on the bite, though beneath the matted blood it wasn’t too deep, but all his movement over the past few hours had caused blood to seep out across his neck like a dark, smudged hand print. Roland’s gaze flicked between his wound and the mare’s face, resting on her when she introduced herself as Arah. He dipped his head, bending awkwardly to avoid stretching the wounded flesh. “Roland,” he supplied shortly, seeing no reason as of yet to invest his trust in her even though she was trying to help him.

The second time she ordered him towards the stream he obliged, turning on his heels and making his way back to the familiar gurgle of rushing water. A look of uncertainty crossed his face as he looked down again, tipping his head to the side so the scarlet stain was visible in the wavering reflection of the stream. It was a mere gruesome illusion, and Roland trusted that once the blood was washed from the wound he would look good as new, which in his opinion was quite good indeed. Glancing back at the mare, the stallion lowered himself into the moving water and flinched at the cold against his legs. With the heat of the sun beating down on his back, it was like shards of ice were digging into his skin, but he soon adjusted to the temperature and relaxed into the chest high water.

He hoped Arah knew what she was doing, as he wasn’t willing to be poked and prodded painfully when the wound was still relatively fresh. The cooling water seemed to soothe some of the pain as it rippled against his chest in a steady pressing current, washing away some of the fresher blood. It flowed like thin ribbons of scarlet, dispersing into the water until it disappeared. Roland averted his eyes from his wound and looked up at Arah with a quiet sigh. “It’s just a snake bite. I, ah, encountered some interesting magic last night and got on its bad side,” he explained, skimming over the details as they were foggy in his own mind.

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