the Rift


[PRIVATE] Blood Bank

Ashamin the Clovenheart Posts: 426
Outcast atk: 8 | def: 11.5 | dam: 5.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 15.2 HH :: 5 [Frostfall] HP: 79 | Buff: NUMB
Lochan :: Plain Cerndyr :: Dark Mist & Rakt :: Common Cerndyr :: Starpast Jen
#1


ashamin
How long was I screaming
How long did you care?

After ten miles our love for one another inevitably ran out
After ten drops of red we fell to pieces at each other's feet

I don't know if that's love.
I don't know.

By the time Ashamin had pulled his teeth from the corporal's neck, by the time she had cried out to stop him, he was in tears. They were slow, bloody things. He had pulled away quickly, let his face draw too close to hers and stain in his own blood, and so his tears picked up and cleared away the red with their tracks. Ki'irha went on. She called him darling, she told him lies and steadied his nerves for the sake of holding together her own, but he couldn't register the depth of her concern. He could only stare, his black eyes feeling full but looking hollow, his gaze dead and his jaw parted. His teeth were speckled with red, his tongue felt fat and unwieldy; Ashamin realized he had bit down on it to stop himself from screaming.

But he didn't think about those things. He didn't think about how his leg burned, how difficult it was to stand. He didn't think about the memories of his spar with Torleik all flooding back and placing him at the center of some traumatic episode. These were realities, his realities, but he could not handle them. The painted buck just stared, feeling the hurt of his heart overtake that of his flesh, and wondered about the mare. How was she breathing? How was she alive? Just facts like that, just questions of nature. Those were what Ashamin could grip, those were what he needed to think about to stay sane.

His heart felt. Not anything specific, not anything he could understand, it simply felt. But of course the haruspex could not recognize it; he'd never before felt so betrayed. And even if Ashamin truly understood his emotions their origins would be a mystery to him. Why was Ki'irha different, out of all those he had cared for but fought and harmed? Zandora had haunted him, but Ashamin had felt ashamed, not betrayed. He had understood her.

Why couldn't he understand Ki'irha?

His right hind leg was soaked in blood. It was completely still, fully folded, as Ashamin struggled to balance on three legs. He still felt frozen, still felt impotent. She had said it was an accident and he had just nodded dumbly. She had drawn closer and he had simply let her. She had pressed her nose to the wound, causing him to recoil in agony, to moan at the irritation, but he had not asked her to stop. What could he do? How could he turn her away when he couldn't find the words to say he needed her to give him space?

Because that was what he needed, space. And as his tail jumped and ached, as it coiled and stuck out violently to harness the pain her every touch caused him, he thought of how to explain. How could he... how could he... no. There was simply no way to explain, because he didn't understand. He needed to know, first.

So without motion, as he stared into the distance and felt his body grow cold from the season or loss of blood, Ashamin let a question slip from his lips like the tears from his eyes and the blood from his wound.

"How could you do this to me?" Then, silently, why does this only hurt with you?

""



Image Credits


Continued directly from here: The Shaman & The Soldier
@Ki'irha


See Ashamin's profile for more information about Lochan, Rakt, and his various items.
All magic and force allowed, barring death and permanent injury.
Do not tag me, please message on skype instead


Ki'irha Posts: 176
Outcast atk: 4.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 6
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15hh :: 5 years old HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Noella
#2
Time stood still, seeming as frozen as the world that imprisoned them. Each painstaking moment seemed longer than the last. She had been blessed with dreams of their solitude, pressed close together beneath an open sky.

But not like this.

They were covered in blood - his blood - and she pressed her nose against his gaskin, afraid to move due to fear he wouldn't stop bleeding. She did this. I did this. She had reached for him and touched him and stabbed him and fucked up. Tears streamed down her face, staining his red blood with trails of cobalt blue. Everything was so red. She couldn't bring herself to look at him. Look at him, damnit. She couldn't look into his eyes and see him. She couldn't see how his face was blank, empty, which was exponentially worse than had it been twisted in rage or agony or anything at all. So, instead, she mumbled a mantra, trying to convince him or herself or the gods that she was sorry, that it was an accident, that maybe if time wasn't frozen she could beg the time god to turn it back so she could fix this.

I can't fix this.

They stood still, blemishes against the permafrost, black and blue and white and red, - too much red - stark and ugly in the aftermath of their dance. What had started as a spar between friends I had wanted more, now I have less ended in a horrible mistake, a tragic misstep, a grotesque display.

'How could you do this to me?' His words were as dull as her blade was sharp. She coughed, hiding a sob beneath the facade of her breathlessness. I can't breathe. The world was suffocating her, or maybe it was her bruised and aching ribs. It was a broken heart rib that smothered her, drowned her in a wave of pressure that kept her from speaking. Did he believe she had done this was capable of doing this on purpose? Did he think god please don't think she would have ever allowed herself to injure him in the slightest way, let alone like this? How could he ask her such a question? How could he say such a thing How could I have done such a thing?

It's a waltz, stand close and follow. He moved and she moved, he tried to shy from her touch and she needed it that much more. He folded his leg neatly, in a nightmarish way maybe this is a nightmare. Did he need her to hold him up, or did she need to convince herself that staying was right, that staying was what he needed? "I didn't do this to you." I did this to me, too. Her voice was dry, each word a knife into her ribs. "Not on purpose. How could you ever think I would do this to you on purpose?" A dagger through your heart would be a dagger through mine. Don't you see?

She didn't have the words to say, and had no condolences to lessen the pain she had inflicted. She didn't understand did not have the capacity to understand his body language. She couldn't translate that his suffering was deeper than the gaping hole she had left. She didn't have the means of explaining to him, in a way he could possibly understand, how sorry she was. I'm so sorry. So she let silence fill the moat that cut between them, allowed it to fester in the fading Tallsun heat.

She was so much more than sorry. She was devastated. Ashamin. In her exhaustion she had pointed her deadliest weapon at the haruspex my wonderful Ashamin. How was that ever an option? Teeth or hooves or literally anything else would have been better, less deadly, less permanent. His tail writhed like a dying headless snake, but she couldn't be bothered to avoid the sparking coil. She deserved whatever came, as long as whatever came wasn't going to rip Ashamin away from her. He was never mine to take away.

She assumed told herself over and over again her feelings were based on friendship they had fostered. It was a short thing, delicate and new like a freshly spun web. Nothing more, nothing less. Her current concern panic was spurred by the fact she had injured him so critically. Nothing more, nothing less. It had all happened so fast. She would feel the same if she had done this to any of her herd mates. Right? There was no secret agenda, no deep underlying meaning. She didn't know him well enough to have more than a fleeting appreciation for him couldn't lov- couldn't say it. He was the haruspex, a storyteller, an integral member of her herd, her family. Her thoughts raced faster than the heartbeat within her chest.

"This wasn't supposed to happen." Obviously. But what else could she say? What else did he want from her? She finally pulled away, looking monstrous and murderous covered in all of this blood. She felt isolated, stranded in a placid sea, a sea that should be choppy and rough and full of vigor and fight. Not calm and still and lifeless. She hoped the bleeding would stop. She hoped it looked worse than it was. She hoped he would put his foot down and scold her for not being more careful. She needed him to stop acting broken.

She was selfish and self-centered. She wanted needed him to tell her he was alright. She needed to be forgiven. But instead he asked a ridiculous question. She needed more than that. She needed him to show her that he felt. Her eyes fell upon his cheeks, saw the thin lines cut with tears.

She thought too much, and in the end said too little. Tell me what to say and I'll say it.

Anything except for that.

talk
[Image: 5581b91112f69]
Colored by Kels ♡
Lines by Bronzehalo

Please Tag Me ○ Permission for magic and injury is granted. Just no death or permanent harm.

Ashamin the Clovenheart Posts: 426
Outcast atk: 8 | def: 11.5 | dam: 5.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 15.2 HH :: 5 [Frostfall] HP: 79 | Buff: NUMB
Lochan :: Plain Cerndyr :: Dark Mist & Rakt :: Common Cerndyr :: Starpast Jen
#3


ashamin



Normally, Ashamin was composed. Normally he had some semblance of composure and he controlled himself. But here he was absent and fire, some sort of emptiness combined with rage until he was nothing. He didn't make sense. Nothing made sense.

He couldn't put the words together anymore. Couldn't figure out where he was, how he felt about it all.

Ki'irha's defense was accident, just as before. His leg shuddered, his spine tingled with the pain of it crawling through his nerves. "I didn't..." he didn't what? Didn't mean it that way, didn't mean anything at all? He had wanted this, to spar with her and prove his mettle. Only he hadn't--hadn't shown her what he was worth, hadn't shown her anything. All he'd done was bleed. And how was that her fault that he was a failure?


"That's not what I meant."

The words felt hollow. His tail fell to the ground, thudding dully on the permafrost. Slowly, his body followed. First the forelegs bent at the knees, the knees that dug into the earth. Then the one leg that could hold itself quivered and collapsed as if it snapped. It was over, all of it was over.


"This isn't your fault, it's mine, I just..." just what, Ashamin? He felt a lump force its way down his throat as his body tilted and fell onto the earth. He looked into the bright sky, hoping for snow that wouldn't come. "I wanted to show you someone different than this. I wanted to show you I could be strong, that I could..." protect you? That wasn't what she needed. She was strong, maybe he needed her. But he was tired of being dependent, he was just... tired.

As he lay on the earth and looked up at Ki'irha, Ashamin knew that more than anything else he wanted to explain to her what she meant. But he didn't know, so the words were unspoken. And too tired and bloody was he to call her closer, too impotent as he lay on the earth. His eyes were wide and hollow, his head turned up to find her. "I think... I think we need a healer."

It wasn't what his heart wanted to say, but it was what his heart knew to be true. And when the haruspex's companion at last caught up and saw the bloody scene, that much became clear. They needed a healer.

""


Image Credits
 
@Ki'irha


See Ashamin's profile for more information about Lochan, Rakt, and his various items.
All magic and force allowed, barring death and permanent injury.
Do not tag me, please message on skype instead


Ki'irha Posts: 176
Outcast atk: 4.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 6
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15hh :: 5 years old HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Noella
#4

She continued to lean against him, trying to support his struggling frame. It was something she could distract herself with. She immersed herself in the minute swaying of their bodies, the quiver of his muscles as they strained, the soft rise and fall of his sides as he breathed. In her concern she nearly forgot the throbbing upon each inspiration she endured, but she ignored it. She had felt worse before, and she could survive this.

There was only so much strength the painted stag had, and finally he collapsed. It was fluid and heavy, and as he fell from her, as he crumbled and gave up, her heart fell to pieces with him. This was not the Ashamin she knew. She knew him as calm and steady, a rational dreamer. He was not a volatile thing like she was, and his kindness was what dulled her edges. She wanted to be a delicate thing for him. She was willing to change everything, and though the star girl had no idea why, she wanted to be what he wanted.

What blossomed in her chest when she was with him was patient. It was kind. It did not boast, nor was it a proud or envious thing. It did not have a name, at least not one she would say out loud, but it was there. It was a rose bud ready to burst.

She stepped around him gingerly before lowering herself to the cold ground, laying beside him. It scared her deep down, watching the noble and gentle haruspex lie in a bloody heap beneath the dying Tallsun sky. She hushed him, the gentle shhhh uttered from her lips calming and motherly. She spoke in the silence he left as he trailed off. "No one is at fault, darling, especially not you. I did not intend for my blade to be a weapon against you. But I cannot change back the time, only our god can do that."

He slumped farther down, and in her desperation she shifted closer. Folding her legs neatly in front of her, she arched her neck and pulled his head onto her knees. She worried for him, and he needed a place to rest his head that wasn't the dirty permafrost disrupted by their dancing. He deserved better. She pressed her nose against him, trying to soothe him, a soft caress to say I'm here, I'll always be here, I'll keep you safe while you're down. Her lids fluttered shut to hide her silver eyes, and she breathed him in. The buck smelled like everything she loved. He smelled of sweat and blood and battle, but deeper down beneath the scent of their spar, he smelled of pine and snow and stone. He smelled like the world around her. He was everything perfect about this place, and she couldn't help but think he was the right to her wrong. He was a safe place in a world of uncertainties. He was the one who, despite their condition or relationship, she could come home to.

Confusion washed over her as he continued to speak. Someone different? Someone strong? Who ever said that's what she wanted? Who ever said he wasn't? Wasn't it proof enough in their first encounter, when a winged shadow dropped from the night into their home, that she needed someone like Ashamin to cool her fire, to be diplomatic when she was ready for war? He had nothing to prove to her. He was Ashamin, and that was a perfect thing to be.

Ignoring his comment, she slowly nodded. "Yes, you need a healer. But I can't find one. I can't... I can't leave you. I won't leave you, unless I need to. Unless you want me to. Perhaps Lochan, he can find someone." She didn't want to separate Ashamin from his companion, and she certainly didn't enjoy their solitude with the current circumstance. She looked at the cerndyr, eyes pleading, hoping he understood, hoping perhaps he would be the one to find help.

The blue draped her neck over Ashamin's. She was quiet for some time. What could she say? What should she say? It felt like the wrong time. The words felt heavy in her mouth, and sour on her tongue. She swallowed them. What she finally formulated may have not been the most direct, but it was the best she could do. "You should not desire to be anything different than what you are. Though the bee and the flower are different, the bee..." She faltered, second guessing herself. A soft sigh escaped her, and she buried her muzzle into his tangled mane. "Well, the bee would love the flower no other way."

That was it. That was all she had to say, all she could say. He had no obligation to answer or reciprocate, and she didn't expect him to. And as each painful breath burned through the energy she had in reserve, she knew they needed a healer. She would find a way to repent for her transgressions against him. She would find the words to say, and the actions to show.

But right now she was at a loss, and in her time of need, she could think of no way to remain stoic and emotionless as a corporal should be.

Instead, all she could do was feel.

talk
[Image: 5581b91112f69]
Colored by Kels ♡
Lines by Bronzehalo

Please Tag Me ○ Permission for magic and injury is granted. Just no death or permanent harm.

Ashamin the Clovenheart Posts: 426
Outcast atk: 8 | def: 11.5 | dam: 5.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 15.2 HH :: 5 [Frostfall] HP: 79 | Buff: NUMB
Lochan :: Plain Cerndyr :: Dark Mist & Rakt :: Common Cerndyr :: Starpast Jen
#5


ashamin




Ki'irha was supposed to be fire. She was the flame, he the... well, whatever the hell didn't belong next to a flame. Watching her now, though, she was some quiet stream, some delicate and soothing force spawned from a once mighty river. She was diminished. She was subdued. She was wrong.

And though everything in Ashamin's heart said stay with her, can't you see this is her love, this is her soul bared and open to you, seeking acceptance, his body revolted and his mind reared in terrified pain. Darling? How many times had she said darling to him, how many times was she going to? What was all this comfort, what was all this... this love?

He murmured the words she said, repeated the most useless of them all needlessly. He turned away and stared past her at Lochan, who stared back at him in frozen fear at the sight of all that blood, and just mumbled like a dummy: "we need a healer." But Lochan didn't move to find one, and Ashamin didn't know how to make him. "we need a healer," he repeated in a whisper, then a sigh, then nothing but in his mind over and over and over, we need a healer we need a healer we need a healer but it didn't take up all the space, there was just enough left for his heart to creep up and cry out and say WHAT ABOUT LOVE?

Ashamin shuddered and started. His body shook, the wound pulsed and blood oozed from it like lava from a crack in the earth. He was coming apart, before and because of her. He didn't know how to say anything other than "we need a healer," and here she was talking about love, and here his heart was screaming about it in his chest and then his skull and it was pounding, everything was a pounding aching desire to be honest with Ki'irha, every instinct shouted DON'T YOU FEEL THIS? and screamed at him WHY CAN'T YOU TELL HER YOUR HEART IS BREAKING FOR HER EVERY TIME YOU LOOK AT HER FACE?

But the haruspex didn't know if that was love. So when he should have told her to drop the metaphor, when he should have told her that he knew he felt something and maybe it was love and would she like to take some time with him, some time alone in quiet walks by the lake and quiet nights in his cave, to talk about this, to find out what it was, to help him through this strange pain, he didn't. He let his body pull itself up out of the snow even though it struggled and cried and resisted with every twitch of muscle and stretch of  limb and he stood and pushed himself away from her, hard and harsh, looked back at her with fire in his eyes that so often were nothing but cold, nothing but deadness, and said "would you stop it? Would you stop talking like that? Would you stop calling me darling and talking about flowers and bees and love, because I don't even know you that well, haven't we only just met, don't I know nothing of your life before this and don't you know nothing of mine? We just need a healer, we don't need to... need to..." Ashamin looked at Lochan, Lochan looked at Ashamin. The small cerndyr shivered in fear and pain, was trapped as if in headlights and could take no step closer or farther away. The haruspex stepped shakily further from Ki'irha, scared of all her touching, of how close she was trying to get to him, and snapped his jaws together at the cerndyr.

"GET US A HEALER, LOCHAN!" he neighed like a scream, his eyes bulging and his tail lashing out in pain. With that, the little eye ran to the healer's cave.



""


Image Credits


@Mortuus Nox
@Ki'irha


See Ashamin's profile for more information about Lochan, Rakt, and his various items.
All magic and force allowed, barring death and permanent injury.
Do not tag me, please message on skype instead


Mortuus Nox Posts: 187
Aurora Basin Time Mender atk: 3.5 | def: 10 | dam: 7
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 15.2 :: Immortal HP: 66.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Dressy
#6
His cold gray eyes looked over the stone of his cave. They matched each others expressions, nothing. There was a cold nothingness in his eyes as the dim fire crackled and popped with a calming anger. He let a soft sight leave his maw and watched the frozen breath fly through the air. He was finally in the comfort of his own cave, and he was more content then ever. He looked so a shelf that held so many different herbs. He knew the stock in Lena's cave was open to all, but he like his own herbs. He wanted to keep a supply so he did not have to bother Lena in the midnight hours. Cold eyes looked over each different plant before returning to the mouth of the cave where something was running across the horizon. The pale orbs narrowed as it grew closer and closer. Black ears pinned back as he waited for what ever it was to burst into his cave.

The sound of the small hooves grew near as he realized who it was. Lochan, it was the small deer creature. His the cold orbs widened as he grabbed several herbs from his collection and took off towards the cave of Ashamin. Cracked gray hooves dug into the ground moving as fast as his collected frame would take him. The chilling air from the mountains flowed through his blackened mane as he came closer to the mouth of the cave. His hooves dug into the ground as he stopped his pace right in the front of the bloodied scene. "What happened ?" the herbs fell from his mouth as he walked i examining the wounds on the wise one. They were bad. Blood pooled around the stag as he aid on the cold ground. His pale orbs then met the star mares, he knew she was not fond of him, but at this point he could give two shits. He closely examined the wounds on his leg before going to his stock. First he picks out cloves,tea tree bark, and Yarrow. He took and ground the three together into a powder like substance with his maw and then placed it directly in the cut. They all held antiseptic properties and would hopefully numb the pain. He then took Agrimony and small thistle and tried to pack it in the cut. Along with a thin leaf placed over top of everything he slightly pushed on it with his muzzle "The first herbs I used should numb the pain so it shouldn't hurt as bad, the next two stop the bleeding hopefully." His hooves stood in the blood on the cave floor. For once he was helping, and not hurting. His Gray eyes looked to the star mare and then to Ashamin "Someone should have told me a lot sooner. Why did you not come get me first thing.. This is a serious injury. His eyes scanned to the horizon once again, he knew this was a serious situation. He had no knowledge of what Ashamin and Ki'irha were speaking about. He let his muzzle relax from the slight compress as he walked back over to the herbs. He picked up Thyme, goldenseal, and Chamomile bringing it closer to Ashamin. "Eat these, it will keep the infection away and the chamomile will also settle your stomach. He shook his head softly as he walked back over to the bleeding cut. His muzzle softly pushed against it again. "Once this stops bleeding I have just a few more herbs to help get your strength back. His deep latin voice spoke softly as his pale eyes looked to the battered mare " take some of those Herbs over there, they will help with your pain too. His heavy skull tipped towards the large leaf that held all the herbs on it.

"Talk"

@Ki'irha

Your fears have just become all to real,
because the devil at the cross road
wants to make a deal.

Please tag Mortuus Nox in all posts
magic & permanent injury is permitted excluding death.

Ki'irha Posts: 176
Outcast atk: 4.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 6
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15hh :: 5 years old HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Noella
#7
Over and over again he repeated his need.

"We need a healer." She wouldn't leave him.
"We need a healer." She was too stubborn.
"We need a healer." She was too distracted. Selfish. Anchored. Consumed. Over and over he said it, but she was so absorbed in the notion and fear and emotion, she couldn't peel herself away to do what was necessary or appropriate.

He pulled away from her, heaving himself up. The smallest sigh of relief slipped from between her teeth. He could stand, and had the spirit left to draw himself off the frozen ground. She heaved herself up, groaning as she did so, feeling the ache blossom in her muscles from their struggle. But what she came to face after she spilled her heart in the only way she knew how, was totally unexpected.

He lashed out at her. His words shook her, reaching into the cavity of her ribs and reducing her heart to rubble. The world around her sputtered to a stop, and the ringing in her ears deafened her. Her mouth opened, but no words spilled out. No repetitive apologies, no justifications, no answers. She didn't expect him to return the sentiment, but the anger in his response caught her breath in her throat, and threatened to choke her.

He was right. He was unbelievably right. His words were like a kick in the teeth, a slap to wake her from a daze. "Fine." It was a solid resounding 'fine,' a definitive agreement. 'Darling' was what she called people. It was a term of endearment, sure, but not a word reserved for him. She was hurt, and in her desperation to distance herself immediately from the situation, she allowed a chasm to erupt between them, splitting herself from the piece that had begged for her to be soft for someone, the piece that had been hidden away but emerged when the unexplainable happened with Ashamin.

She mirrored his movements, stepping away from him. She wanted to run, but she stayed tethered. "You're right," she said, voice dry and face stoic. "We don't know anything about one another. But how about this, haruspex. Rarely I am wrong, and when I am, I never repeat the same mistakes. So no need to worry, it won't happen again." I will not share my feelings. I will not be weakened by emotion. I will not bear my soul, I will not open up, I will not deviate from who I am. I will not ever make this mistake again.

When Lochan returned, the ram-headed buck who followed in his wake was the last person she wanted to see. She snorted, turning her head. Nox worked his magic, fussing over the more critical stallion, before turning back to her and gesturing to a leaf covered in an assortment of herbs and remedies. "Thanks for being so specific," she mumbled, before turning to leave. She did not need his help. She would find her own healing.

The star girl turned her head, looking to catch black eyes one more time. She had no kindness to share, no pleasantries to end their ordeal cordially. "I am sorry about your leg, but it's a price you were willing to pay. Welcome to war, storyteller."

With that she made her exit, the smoothness of her strides stained with pain from her ribs, hiding the pain and insult that lurked much deeper than the naked eye could see.

talk
@Mortuus Nox ~
[Image: 5581b91112f69]
Colored by Kels ♡
Lines by Bronzehalo

Please Tag Me ○ Permission for magic and injury is granted. Just no death or permanent harm.

Ashamin the Clovenheart Posts: 426
Outcast atk: 8 | def: 11.5 | dam: 5.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 15.2 HH :: 5 [Frostfall] HP: 79 | Buff: NUMB
Lochan :: Plain Cerndyr :: Dark Mist & Rakt :: Common Cerndyr :: Starpast Jen
#8


ashamin



As soon as the cold "fine" came from Ki'irha's lips, Ashamin knew he had made a mistake. His leg shuddered and he stumbled, falling back down onto the snow and watching desperately as Ki'irha moved away. His lips parted, his eyes fell and his heart slowed to nothing. His hearing faded away, his vision blurred. Was it fatigue, was it injury, or was it heartbreak?

Mortuus came like a whirlwind, guided by a timid Lochan who made no movement towards his bonded or to help with the healing. He stood sheepish, wandered away from the bloody scene and back towards the cave far in the distance. There was nothing Lochan could do, nothing he wanted to do for the stallion who had screamed with such violence--who should have comforted him.

Ashamin laid limp as Mortuus pressed herbs to the wound, jerked and kicked and shuddered in painful response. The numbing took over but all did little. He had fallen and picked himself up too many times, now everything was characterized by its hurt. As Ki'irha made her way away, tossed back what felt like an insult and a welcome to war, Ashamin's heart fell with regret. What had he lost? What, so carelessly, had he just thrown away?

Ki'irha was gone before he could say anything more. Ashamin wanted to call out and ask her to wait, to come back, but even he knew that for now it was all too late. He turned to Mortuus in a haze, shrugged off the rest of the herbs and the advice and struggled to his feet. "Thanks, Mortuus," he mumbled almost incoherently.
"I'll see you later, alright?" he excused himself without grace.

Ashamin limped past the healer, limped out into the cold, and with congealing blood dripping from dropping herbs headed after his distant companion. They would make it home, and in the dark they would speak to each other in the quiet words of pictures in the mind, but they would not heal for some time.

They had lost a lot.

""


Image Credits


@Ki'irha @Mortuus Nox (end? Unless Mortuus wants to post again.)


See Ashamin's profile for more information about Lochan, Rakt, and his various items.
All magic and force allowed, barring death and permanent injury.
Do not tag me, please message on skype instead



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