The sun went out. Light had gone. d'Artagnan went utterly still.

Am I... Dead?
No.

His mind whirled at all the possibilities, his breathing accelerating in panic a little more before zoning in on the voices around him.

"I have fixed our guest's sight, Xira. Be sure to be a good guide to him."
Bastard.

Now it all fit. So this impure General had magic going for him did he? d'Artagnan found it quite impressive and excruciatingly annoying. So much for spying on Throat territory. He was now completely reliant on this Xira child to direct him and Azzuen, who had subsequently disappeared on patrol, knew it. Still, the Doctor found the General naive to leave him in the hands of a girl. Scent, hearing and touch. Why not take those away as well? d'Art gave a short snort as his brain began to hurt from the loss of his eyes. His mind still thinking he could use them and the confusion of not being able to was causing stress. d'Artagnan would just have to count on his other senses and see if this magic would wear away.

Slowly, the Nightshade tested the ground beneath him. Hard and rocky, moisture deprived. If he followed this mare and remembered each surface and the smell, he should slowly begin to understand the lay of the land. That's if the land wasn't just made up of desert land. However, this would take immense concentration that d'Artagnan wasn't sure he possessed. The brute would also have to use his hearing to understand where he was going and being alert for danger. The blind Doctor gritted his teeth in anger as the sensation of losing himself stole over him.

NO!

He couldn't. If he wanted to escape he must remain sane, going berserk would only hinder him badly. It was made all the more harder as suddenly something sharp pierced into his fur and barraged him all over. It smelt and felt like a bird. So this child had a companion too. Small drops of blood began to mar his fur in places, pain erupting here and there.

His nose rippled in disgust and white teeth emerged from lips. "Oh. So the child has a chick. Don't get too close to my teeth pigeon, I can still smell you." He let his anger flow through each word, almost growling the last two at her.

Xira.

He stored the name away for another day. When he wasn't a captive. A tongue lolled out of his grey lips and roved around his maw. A smile replacing its wake as he thought of all the poisons at his disposal. Or should he just sever her wings and bowl her over the icy cliffs of the Edge, turning the tumulus sea a shade of red. He liked the colour red. It was a very satisfying colour.

"Beat me up all you want child. Pain comes easily to me." d'Artagnan was almost daring the mare to torture him. How far would she go? What was her conscience like? He smiled a sickly sweet smile. It didn't matter to the red brute, he would find her again one day. Revenge would be easy. Instead he now took two careful steps forward.

"Speak up porn of Azzuen! Where is this grand tour then?"