The world was dark and quiet. Sounds came through blurred and muffed like far away, and only the thick rasp of his own breath pierced his senses. That, and pain. It all hurt. Every breath dragging out. Screams pierced the muffed sounds of his mind and the earth eyes flash awake at last. They roll for a moment, lost in the sunlight. The blinding light that was so unlike the shadows he knew. He groans against it all, sending a spiral of coughs from his lips. When the seizure of them stop he looks out. The world was blurred, shifting in wisps, and sideways? No. That’s not right. Head lifted from the salty earth, but its weight was heavy he nearly drops it back. And everything strained just to remember to live.

Blurs gain shapes. Shapes gain identities, and as he lay there upon the salt field the world began to return to him. The battle. He had come on another battle, and charged in. Then from the right, a hit, sacking his side, and then, nothing. But why- A hallow cry whispers through the wind. Haldir. The gold in the earth eyes flashes awake instantly.

Needles pierced into every surface of the black back, hot and spiked, and yet sending chills through his core. How could it be so hot and cold at the same time. Pale moon eyes were hidden, but that had not kept back the tears. God it hurt. Like nothing he had ever known the pain was so great it locked his body down. But as the pale eyes open to the world they tremble and tears threaten again because through all the shapes and creatures, he is not there. The golden was not there. And he might as well have been alone. Terribly, horrendously alone, and terrified. Because he for the first time was feeling his true mortality, and the darkness surrounding him.

Coughing in renewed struggle against the disease which held him still in its vice grip, the gold struggles through the crowds. There was celebration and smiles places but he shoves past them unthinkingly. Today was not a victory for him. His dirty coat wavers, threatened by his own movements as he struggles across the battlefield, searching. Pressing. Heart pounding in his throat to find the little black shadow.

He nearly steps upon him the creature is so small, and unlike his companion. But it is Haldir. Oh Haldir… Curled up tight, but air laced with the smell of his burnt fur. Troubled eyes shake as they look upon the wilted frame, the charred back. A whisper of a cry, questioning the horror of the sight leaves the golden’s lips. Cracking, and breaking into a fit of coughs he struggles to stifle. Black antlered head slowly looks up, his moon eyes ever blank and deep. The golden. He wanted to rise, to rush to him. To bury his head into the golden’s deep chest and never leave his side. But it was too great. Too much, and his head wavers, falling back again.

Panic slashes across the golden’s face, and his trembling body stumbles forward. Heavy head, low, inhales the thick air of burnt fur and it flinches away. The smell too evil to his nature and painful, but this was Haldir. Leafen forehead nudges the dark body then rolls against its soft neck. There was no time to analyze, no time to get angry over being forced to feel this care, this concern. There was only shared agony and pain.

The warm breath, though broken up and loud, rolls over the small stag’s skin, make it flinch and he curl tighter. But then the gentle touch, the soft, caring touch brushes against him. A warmth grows in his chest. Head snatches up to rise to the other, to press against it, and to feel the golden there, though the effort draws tears from his eyes again. For a moment the two stay like this, pressed against each other, blind to the world around them.

Then the golden retreats back, his sickness collapsing his breath and dragging it out into a fit of cough, this time blood draining out his nostrils. It had been the prior battle that had gained him the illness, and he had hoped time would mend its strange symptoms, but the blood spelled the doom, that it was only getting worse. The dark deer opens his eyes again, and though pain still trembles them, they also find a peace with the utter agony he finds himself in. The golden was here. It was all alright, and no more harm would come. For the small deer, it was all going to be alright now.

With the golden’s help, a rare gift, the deer stands. Pain pierced every nerve. Wincing the gold looks upon the wavering creature and his own body straining to watch. If there was anything, something-wait. With the slowness of his strained life the gold reaches in his satchel and pulls from it a small bundle of dried leaves, and a blue charm. He pulls a leaf from the bundle and lets the dripping blue charm moisten it. Flashes of the bay sweet thing come as he crushes the leaf mixing it into a terrible excuse for a paste. Haldir watches with empty eyes. Desperation cuts the golden short and upon returning the items to his pouch he dips his nose in. Grimacing he whispers assurances through their bond and brushes the paste upon the damaged skin. A cry screeches then cuts short as Haldir nearly falls to the earth again. But the herb does its job and the heated needles in his flesh cool. The dark stags head falls to the earth and his sides breathe easier. Not for the first time, and probably not for the last the golden blesses that sweet thing.

Anxious features watch the dark deer. Nose nudging him gently as if trying to waken him. Finally, after a moment the small head of Haldir rises in a worn smile. A long sigh falls from the gold and sends him into a fit of coughing again. But he barely noticed. Haldir moved to stand as close as he could to the golden’s salt covered coat. And both creatures found relief.


"Talk?"
OOC:: Blame Neo's music for the dramatics and dark mood. XD

we live like thieves
     kings among men