Jessie
Admin
CleverComment
A Band of Misfits
Posts: 226
|
Post by Jessie on Apr 21, 2012 14:36:52 GMT -5
For the Dark Elf at the time, everything was growing dark. Despite the only thing keeping him awake for the past several moments of battle, the gorging gashes over his body and cracked armor, even this uncomforting side of the man was noticing the disadvantages. It wasn’t even registered into his mind yet, that the Magundi had escaped from his prison and removed the two siblings from battle, and the shade was only but a flickering image held in place.
The humanoid figures that held solid were as well beginning to fade now, the consecutive fluid coming not only from his arms, but now his torso, too. And at a quickened pace, Tunnel vision was stirring into the now faint hues of red and white, a choke of blood breaching his thin mouth. Was this the end? The dirty hunter had withdrawn, only to prep his blade for the last blow. This is it...? Dying over a fucking bounty... Never had... I expected to end th.. way... the troubled mind sighed, still unable to provide any movement to his body. For now, Mithos could only see, and even that was a rare case when such a beast was in control.
“What? Does my form surpri-” the voice croaked, another cough closing in on the Elf’s larynx, the disgusting taste of metal looming in his throat. His hands still sprung to his sides, however, in a very faint motion as if to continue welcoming that of the fury named Ethem.
But fate had other plans. As the blade rose to its high, the light reflecting that of the properties of the condensed electrical current in the middle of the battlefield, a vision of red swept Mithos’s sight, the anguished cries of the hunter overpowering that of the electrical shock he was being delivered. He had just been... saved? No, that term never registered to him. More so because of his childhood, there was no such thing as a savior, but more of a coincidence. He had just gotten lucky.
“Mithos...? Are you.... wounds?” the voice blurred, the insight of the Mag approaching alarming the corrupted man. In spite of the moment, the Elf slapped away any offer Ao had to give, taking two steps back before the trees began to spin at a rapid rate. The devilish smirk fading, a look of distress fell upon the beaten mans’ face, all of the surrounding shades now dimming out of existence, along with the orb, as his knees fell promptly to the ground. A light, almost inaudible sigh flashed from the Dark Elf as his legs collided with the ground, soon collapsing that of his entire body into the dirt, open wounds still fleshing out his humanity.
|
|
|
Post by mourninglife on Apr 21, 2012 15:12:46 GMT -5
When Mithos slapped away Ao's hands, he flinched but remained firm as he watched in horror as the dark elf stumbled and fell to the ground, bleeding heavily. He rushed over to him to see how serious his wounds were up close. They were terrible, just as he had thought from the moment he watched the pair fight. He gritted his teeth and fought against his logical emotions and thoughts yet again as he started to drag the bleeding body to safety.
"Mithos... You better wake up after this." He growled, having to drag him by his torso since he feared tugging on his arms would only yield worse results. Somehow, as if the Fate had led his head to search for something, he spotted a tree with a sack resting against the roots. He stared at it hard for a moment and quickly dragged towards it with renewed sense of dread.
The hybrid soon reached the tree with the sack and carefully laid Mithos's head against one of the exposed roots. Not caring about all of the blood on him now or how his head seemed to be getting light-headed, he grabbed the sack and tore through it, tossing the items out of the way until he reached the medical items. He silently thanked whoever was watching out for them and promptly went to bandage the battered elf's wounds.
First, he had to deal with the hands since both of them were terrible. Especially his right hand. As carefully as he could, he cleaned it out as best as he could before wrapping the right hand up. During the entire time of cleaning, he avoiding touching the exposed bones. He then focused on the left hand, doing the same procedure he did with the right.
Once Ao was all done with the heavy bleeding hands, he focused on Mithos's side. He had to removed the cracked armor so he could tear off whatever was left of his shirt. He winced upon the sight of the raw red spots everywhere on his chest. Now was not the time to try to fix those burns.
"My god, I'm surprised he's still alive from taking two electrical attacks twice in a row. Not to mention he has these wounds." The hybrid muttered to himself as he cleaned and bandaged the gash. He looked over his terrible bandage work but he assumed it would work for now. For himself, he simply placed bandages over his weeping gash on his leg.
He'd need water and more bandages and so he went off, grabbing Mithos's canteens, heading to his temporary place where he had left off most of his things behind to grab his own canteens, and finally headed towards the river. On his way back, he had somehow encountered the camp where the hunters had rested before the entire craziness happened and decided to pillage it for the medical items. Surprisingly, he reaped plenty to last them for several days if Mithos's wounds continued to bleed out heavily.
Over the course of the remaining day and the dusk, Ao tended to the dark elf and to himself from time to time. He had made a small fire once things got too dark and cooked small things to fill his hunger. He sat down beside the sleeping form and glanced at him, deciding that he was also tired. He curled up beside him but soon found he could not sleep, not with the worry of Mithos dying on him.
|
|
Jessie
Admin
CleverComment
A Band of Misfits
Posts: 226
|
Post by Jessie on Apr 21, 2012 19:43:49 GMT -5
All while in the care of the Magundi, the Elf was unconscious in his mind, left to batter out with his own thoughts. In reality, his wounds would ache, screech, and cause immense pain. But here, where only the shroud of darkness came to be, there was no feeling. No color, no blood, no fighting. Just an ever-ending pit of despair, and voices.
‘Am I dead?’
‘No.’
‘Am I alive?’
‘No.’
The conversation seem to go nowhere.
‘Are you dead?’
‘Quite certainly, I am alive.’
‘... What happened?’
‘You decided to be a hero without the pay. Luckily, I saved your pathetic ass, as I could have left you there to die fairly easy, You’re already broken due to the stupid Mag.’
‘If I die, you are gone as well.[/i]’
‘Exactly why you no longer exist, and I am the Alpha.’
This wasn’t the first time the two personalities battered each other, the mental connection only consisting of arguments over the years nothing more than another casual conversation for Mithos. It had originated back when he had lived with his Mother, even before the incident at the schooling. As a matter of fact, it was the voice that had convinced him otherwise to practically break the boys’ neck.
Hesistaria became overwhelming, even in the depth of his thoughts now. The feel of dread and dizziness running through his skull, his nerves ripped to what felt like shreds amongst his torso and hands. What exactly happened? Why did it hurt this much?
Fidgeting, the mans’ fingers began to twitch, his breathing increasing drastically as if to prepare for something more. His lips twitched at the corners, the sense of heat and wind now coming upon his skin. Vision was still dark- no, there was a light. A flame? Nightfall? Where was he? Had he been captured? The nonstop emotions and possibilities were scratching at the back of his head.
“GWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” the man cried, the pain of everything that had happened in the turn of previous events now attacking his nervous system like firearms in a warfield. Everywhere seem to hurt, to ache, to burn. A pain like no other he had experienced. No, this was Death itself, stripping him of his very life.
The cries that mimicked that of a dying breed continued to fill the air as the man arched himself from his position, unable to sit forward or turn. But he would damn so try! Struggling, searching for any position that seemed even slightly more pleasant to ease this torture.[/color]
|
|
|
Post by mourninglife on Apr 21, 2012 20:04:12 GMT -5
Waiting for Mithos to awaken was nerve-wracking since he did not give off any signs of waking up any time soon. Ao stared at the resting body intently, having decided to sit up instead of lying down. The elf seemed to be at peace but everything had to end sometime soon.
He let out a sigh and stood up to feed the fire that was built within the earth to prevent any wayward blades catching on fire. By now, he could somewhat tell the moon was rising to take its place within the sky where the sun once had been. Listening to the fire crackle as he fed the fire with small branches, he started to ponder on why he would want to rescue Mithos, his attacker whom had sworn to kill him for nothing more than worldly money that would soon disappear.
Was it out of pity? Admiration? Something else? The hybrid didn't know but one thing he did appreciate was that the elf searched for him and nothing else. Perhaps with wrong reasons but he didn't care. He barely had any meaningful connections except for his mother, father, and a teacher. He was sick of being lonely and, in a way, Mithos was there to fill in that loneliness. Once agian, with wrong reasons.
Ao didn't notice the elf's slight movements until the pained shriek sounded out in the quiet night. He jumped up at the sound and rushed over to him.
"Stay still! You'll reopen your wounds!" He shouted, now trying to figure out what the elf wanted and managed to slip a hand on Mithos's chest and back to help him up. Regardless if he had attempted to smack him away, he would be there, doing his best to aid him.
"Stop moving!" He growled, now trying to restrain him from moving around too much out of fear that the wound on his side/torso area would be bleeding heavily again at this point.
|
|
Jessie
Admin
CleverComment
A Band of Misfits
Posts: 226
|
Post by Jessie on Apr 21, 2012 20:59:49 GMT -5
The shriek of a banshee continued to echo through the trees, a sound so eerie that it may have well alarmed the perimeter of the surrounding mile. Struggling of every movement that seem to touch him, the pain only worsening as his confusion thickened in absence, the lack of knowledge of whatever happened this day, period, a dying fear.
“Get off... Get off!” The Elf screamed, a mixture between anger and terror, sweeping away the Magundi’s hands as he tumbled onto his side, opposite of Ao’s position. Another sharp pain, on top of the never-ceasing, cut into his side, a violent roar erupting from the Elvaan as he possibly just reopened the wound to his side.
“W- Where?! Where am I?!” he continued to scream, a heave of pitiful moans before he rested his face into the dirt next to him, his balance well off the root of the tree now. His back was towards the fire at this point, crimson gaze full of nothing but an emptiness. His struggle settling into that of absolute pain, his cries weakened, not even providing the strength to call out anymore.
“Where... what happened...? Am I dying...? Why...” the questions seem to have rolled off his tongue in a whisper, unable to grasp his surrounding or even the fact that Ao was there, the very Magundi he sought out.
|
|
|
Post by mourninglife on Apr 21, 2012 21:28:01 GMT -5
The shrieks pained Ao and distracted him enough to actually let go of Mithos. He cursed silently as he clammed his ears with his hands as elf's screams were getting painful to hear. However, that was incomparable to his own fear for the elf. Why was he reacting like this way? Was he not awake today during the battle?
He waited silently, remaining where he was at until the Mithos had stopped moving. Tentatively, he lowered his hands to hear his weakened cries and moved closer to him so he could give him his answers to any questions he could hear.
"You're still in Namos. Now hold still. I'll explain everything if you'll let me change your bandages. You went and reopened this wound." He said, now attempting to gently move Mithos so he could remove the now red-blotched bandages. As he did this, he took a breath before explaining what had happened.
"Well, I'm not entirely sure why you came to my rescue but you came anyways. There was three hunters and one of them insulted you. Hm... after that, you and- aw man, I have to clean this." He explained, interrupting momentarily to fetch some clean rags and water to clean the bleeding wound as gently as he could. Soon afterwards, he placed the bandages back on, continuing on his explanation as he did so.
"Where was I...? Oh yes, You and your shades fought against the hunters and it was probably about to be a tie, had I not stepped in. To be honest, it wasn't a fair fight at first but you scared him plenty with your... odd behavior. Hm... Ah yes, your weird human shades were acting oddly with their electricity things." He muttered, carefully rubbing the the end of the bandage onto the rest of the bandage.
"Let's see what else am I supposed to explain... You lost a lot of blood, that's for sure. I had to shock that guy who was going to kill you." He finalized up his crappy explanation of the battle before moving onto the other questions.
"As for the dying thing, no, you aren't dying, thank the gods or whatever. But I'm pretty sure you'd kill me for saying that since you're in pain. A lot of it." He stated the obvious. Now was the time to change the bandages on his hands and other parts of his body.
"Hm... Do you think you'd let me change the bandages on your hands? I need to do that." He asked, pointing at Mithos's hands.
|
|
Jessie
Admin
CleverComment
A Band of Misfits
Posts: 226
|
Post by Jessie on Apr 21, 2012 22:26:36 GMT -5
A part of the Elf flinched, Ao’s voice startling as for a brief moment, he had forgotten the Mag was at his side.. With no struggle, he allowed himself to be flipped back onto his back, a searing pain causing him to wince, scrunching up his nose in disgust. How could he possibly be in this much pain?
“Namos... ” he echoed softly, as if trying to remember why he was here in the first place. Thats right- the Mag, the theft of a mere meal the Dwarf had sent him after. And even then, Mithos had seen something more in the drake halfbreed, daring to hunt him down with or without a mere 20 coin reward.
Another snarl erupted from his gritted teeth as the bandages were removed from his side, the crimson ooze fresh from the hassle he had caused. Eyes following every movement Ao had confirmed, like a hawk, the Dark Elf spoke not a word as the man patched his wound.
Three hunters... he remembered them, barely. That of a dirty man who was the first to address his appearance from the trees, along with two others. A male and woman, guarding the prison Ao had been trapped in. He had decided to save the Mag, in trade that he was his, like property. Truth be told, Mithos had very well seen the man as his equal, and if the Magundi were to disappear for any reason at all, he would be left with nothing more than daily chores of a Mercenary. He didn’t want that. He craved for the thrill of having a worthy opponent.
The last events he could recall was the dirtier of the three bringing forth his sword, capturing the blade between his hands in trade of blocking a critical blow to his torso. Obviously, that had been proven wrong as a gash sat promptly upon his chest, along with the dire cuts into his hands. But his right hand had hurt much more than the other, for reasons left unknown to him
“Odd behavior...?” What behavior? Mithos couldn’t recall on such a thing. All he could remember was the scene growing black. There was a brief moment during the commotion that a blurred vision, the sight of Ethem raising his blade for another attack before being trampled by the Magundi, but other than that, nothing much more happened. And what of these human-like shades? Electricity? Blood lost? Had he really lost that much?
“I don’t... remember...” he whimpered dejectedly, turning his head away from the Dragon, as if disappointed in himself. Though, at the request of changing the bandages around his hands, he couldn’t exactly reject the caretaker. His life depended on it. “...Do what you must,” the Elf snarled, trying his best to conceal his lack of determination and pride.
|
|
|
Post by mourninglife on Apr 21, 2012 22:51:09 GMT -5
Surprisingly, Mithos had listened to Ao as he spoke of his explanation. He did his best to keep his movements gentle as the elf seemed to think about something deeply. He let out a deep sigh and gently took the left hand within his hands. His right hand would be too much of a shock at the moment. He thought he would need some time before seeing the condition of that right hand.
"The behavior... It was like you weren't the same. You seemed to become insane and unresponsive to pain and anything else. It was because of that odd behavior, that man started to slow down for you to punch him in face." He explained, doing his best to describe the behavior he had witnessed. While he did so, he carefully unwrapped the bandages, tugging the bloodied parts off as gently as he could. There was no need in causing so much pain at the moment.
"This may hurt a bit." The hybrid muttered, grabbing a canteen and poured the water on the deep gashes before lightly rubbing it dry with the same rag. Once he was done, he wrapped the left hand in new bandages. Now, he was nervous about that right hand. With a deep inhale, he reached over to take the right hand with utmost care.
"Don't slap me away when you see how bad it is, okay?" The draconian man warned, taking greatest care in removing the bandages. No matter how many times he had to clean the right hand, it always caused him to feel a little sick in his stomach, along with strong fear. How could anyone have their hand nearly sliced in half and not be wailing in pain?
Once he was done removing the bandages, he held Mithos's right hand and examined it to see if it was in any need of cleaning. A somewhat disgruntled sigh escaped past his lips as he realized he needed to clean it. He grabbed the same canteen and carefully poured out the water in a trickle, doing his best to focus on cleaning the broken flesh before doing the bones.
After doing the procedure, he only patted the flesh areas dry and wrapped his right hand with clean bandages. With that over with, he focused on the other medical tasks upon Mithos's body before focusing on his own.
"But you know... I was kind of glad to see you helping me out, even if you can't remember much of it." Ao said as he worked on himself, leaving out his embarrassingly sappy side out. Why he had gone all sappy upon the sight of Mithos, he did not know. However, that didn't stop him from placing the blame on his emotions during that time.
|
|
Jessie
Admin
CleverComment
A Band of Misfits
Posts: 226
|
Post by Jessie on Apr 21, 2012 23:18:03 GMT -5
Listening carefully to how Ao explained the unorthodox attitude, Mithos still couldn’t grasp what had fully happened. Surely when he was unconscious the voice seemed clear. But coming to, and being that of awake, it was as if he had no memory at all that there was something more within him.
“I punched him in the face...?” He turned his face back to the Drake-like being, raising a brow as his lips still twitched in a matter of pain, his teeth gnawing that of his bottom, refusing to shriek any more in fear of startling Ao. But that didn’t change the factor that the pain was still there, and growing.
There was a visible flinch and grunt as the first set of bandages were removed from his left, the thick gash from where he last remembered grappling the sword, only worsening in condition when Ethem plied the weapon from his skin. The sight was quite terrible, raw flesh tackling the atmosphere head on, a permanent stinging sensation. Water didn’t help, the brief pressure of the liquid moving within his cell count and that of the pried skin, a sneer escaping the mans’ vocals as he tightened his arm, clenching his fist not an option.
What Mithos had not been prepared for, was the gruesome sight of his right hand, that had taken on a full forced swing by itself, practically shattering the bone, flesh carved away like that of a pumpkin for Halloween. He grew weary of Ao’s warning, only expecting the hand to be symmetrical to his left. But even before the Magundi could remove the bandages fully, the blood thickened and healing within the bandage itself, the deepness of the gash sent chills through his spine.
“What is...?” he began to mummer, his eyes growing in width as the last of the bandage was removed. Speckles of white, along with the stable marrow were shining from his palm, the hues of red quickly eroding over as the wounds pressure was released, allowing unstable blood flow to start again. Mithos’s body had become still, staring in disbelief- horror, at the condition. Such an overwhelming feat, that even the nerves didn’t take their toll until the water came in, the very touch of the cold liquid causing another horde of cries.
“GAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” Mithos called out, his facial features in that of nothing but anguish, much more disturbed than that of any electrical charge Ao could defend with. Though, these howls silenced much quicker than the first set, replaced with that of a heavily paced breathing as Mithos bit his lip hard, growling at his throat from the pain.
His eyes clamped shut, Mithos rested the back of his head against the tree as his face stared upward to the sky, trying to calm himself down for a more appropriate approach to his savior, than acting of a wounded animal. When his composure was at its best, he took a breath, then turned back to the Drake’s direction, watching silently as he tended to his own wounds.
“..... I didn’t help you. You’re my prize. And I’ll be damned if I have someone else turn you in...” the Dark Elf scoffed, his voice in that of a monotone approach as he turned his head in opposite direction again, avoiding any eye contact between he and the Magundi.
|
|
|
Post by mourninglife on Apr 22, 2012 0:16:42 GMT -5
Just as Ao had thought, Mithos had somewhat freaked out through the process of replacing the bandages. However, it mattered little as he felt the pain of his own when he had to replace his own bandages. The pain was bearable to the point where it seemed to not affect him at all. Nevertheless, it was still there, even long after the replacement of the bandages.
"Eh... Wha..." He mumbled at the words the dark elf had thrown out. He could feel his face burning up out of embarrassment! He was glad he had red skin and scales to allow his blush blend in without anyone noticing. Well, at least he was the same person he knew anyways.
"Um... Ignoring that for now, do you think you could sleep? We need some sleep for the day ahead of us." The drake asked, yawning a little himself. It was night, after all, and he wasn't an owl person.
He pondered on what to do tomorrow since they needed to move before that Ethem guy woke up and searched for them. They couldn't go back to Kabal for obvious reasons so that left one familiar option. They'd travel to Liath and meet up with his mother. Perhaps they could spend their time until Mithos was completely recovered?
That'd be good idea but he had a feeling the dark elf disliked that place. For whatever reasons he had, Ao would just completely ignore it in favor of recovery. After all, things in Liath couldn't be that bad towards Mithos, right?
|
|
Jessie
Admin
CleverComment
A Band of Misfits
Posts: 226
|
Post by Jessie on Apr 22, 2012 0:49:23 GMT -5
Raising a silver brow, despite the lack of sight the draconic being had towards his face, Mithos peered over his shoulder, an unamused look to his face. Other than the pain of his wounds, he seem to have been the same old Mercenary. “As much as I am grateful for your care... you do not need to babysit me. I will sleep fine,” he scoffed, taking no hesitation as he turned his head back, resting crookedly on his side, just enough to not pressure the gash to his left.
But sleep did not come easy. The pain was a constant reminder of his near-death experience, coursing through his veins like that of blood, itself. His hands burned and twisted in agony, while the gash to his side felt as if it had its own heartbeat, wrapped in barbed wire. Not to mention that of his entire body, still aching over the previous battle with Ao.
And even with the brief sleep he could endure, he was never left alone, the voice returning, much more defiant and consistent than from the past.
‘How miserable can you be? Letting yourself be taken into the care of your enemy.’
‘He rescued me. He rescued you.’
‘Hah! I had things under control, until you barged in. Even the gash on your side could have been avoided, had you remained in your place.’
‘My place? This is my place.’
‘Clever, maggot. We will see who stands forth, let us see how close you get to dying without my aid. Your pet here won’t always protect you. Once you’re patched up, he will leave.’
‘I never expected him to stay. And I’ve been fine for my entire life.’
‘Because I’ve been there. The only guardian you had, the only one to depend on. Though, you cannot depend on what is not there, can you?’
The ominous voice spoke every syllable with a vile of venom, the metaphoric claws tapping away at Mithos’s skull as it pounded in pain. Again, his body began to tremble, the ‘peaceful’ retreat into sleep, now coming to an abrupt end. His fingers clenched, his mouth twitched, and his side felt like that of a thousand daggers. Crimson hues fluttered open to reveal that of a pastel sky, highlighted in golds and blues of dawn as the sun was well on its way, the shadows becoming more and more vague in the Jungle.
Hesitantly, the Elf turned his vision over to his right, the drake breed still asleep, He had mentioned something of the next sun that there would be preparations, but Mithos being that of stubborn, he had no intentions of traveling further with that of his prey.
Taking a deep breath, the warlock struggled to lift himself up in a sitting position without using the weight of his hands, discomforted grunts seeping between his teeth as the pain began to intense. He was halfway along a 90 degree position before his body cut out, a cough choking his lungs as another blood clot dripped from his mouth. Wincing tightly, he continued to press forth until he was leaning hunchback in a sitting form, gasping to breathe and as well trying to air out the pulsing torture of his body.
|
|
|
Post by mourninglife on Apr 22, 2012 14:15:45 GMT -5
Somehow, Ao had to doubt Mithos's words when they were spoken. With those kind of wounds, sleep would not come easy at all and perhaps would keep him from resting well. This was the reason why he decided on Liath. The shaman that took care of him could help the dark elf, only if she was there in the city at the moment.
"Alright..." He muttered, glancing over to the elf to see his head turning away. Once he heard the soft breathing that signaled Mithos's sleep, he shuffled closer to the sleeping body and curled up, making sure any part of him did not touch the wounded man out of fear that even a slightest touch could cause large amount of pain. However, like Mithos, sleep did not come easy for Ao either.
He had spent a part of the night staring at the flames until it started to sputter out from lack of fuel. As it sputtered to death, Ao slowly closed his eyes, sleep finally taking over. His dreams were odd ones since they seemed to be nothing more than a mixture of memories stuck together haphazardly, creating somewhat frightful scenery from time to time during his sleep.
His ears twitched as some foreign sounds appeared behind him. He was slowly roused from his sleep by the sounds until he was somewhat awake. The hybrid glanced over his shoulders to see the elf attempting to sit up while gasping for some air.
The drake kept his silence since he did not need any sharp-tongued comments thrown at him this morning. He silently stood up on all fours and proceed to stretch like a cat, each waking muscles now fully ready to carry out any tasks. After shaking himself a little, he bounded a little around the campsite, glancing around before choosing a direction that was close to the river. Surely he would find something worthy to eat for the long travel ahead of him.
With that firmly in his brain, he bounded away with great speed that could cover large amount of land within hours. Of course, he would have to be weight-free to do so. After few minutes of hunting around, he had finally come across a small family of deer, his emerald eyes targeting one of the fawns.
Everything seemed to stand still as the buck seemed to sense some sort of danger, snorting to warn his family and glancing around, unable to spot the drake hiding between the layers of green growths. He let out a low growl and placed one hand forth, now tucking his wings tightly against his back and storing some sort of unseen power within his back legs. The sound alerted the family and, within split second, everything erupted into action.
A flash of red chased after the bounding deer, splitting up to attempt increase their chances of living. However, as soon as they split up, it became easier to target the fawn he had spotted earlier. Increasing his bounding pace to gain some more speed, he came closer and closer to his prey, snarling as the trees became more clustered.
A flash of weak, uncharged lightning bolt escaped past his mouth, zapping right on the fawn's thigh, causing it to tumble down out of surprise and pain. Ao jumped above the creature and turned around as he slid across the ground, growling in a low tone. His prey scrambled to get up right when the drake rushed at it. White fangs sank down into the tender throat of the fawn and moved harshly.
That was it. He had snapped its neck and now would carry it back to his area, much like a dragon that he was. Jogging with a limping gait, he dragged the lighter fawn to the campsite, proceeded to start up the fire again, and created a makeshift grilling area.
"Breakfast." He growled, informing Mithos as he simply cleaned out the carcass and stuck the meat on a stick to be cooked over the fire. Once he had gotten most of the edible meat out, he simply discarded the rest for any other wandering predators to snack on.
"You will travel with me. We must have that hand looked at." The hybrid rumbled as he observed the cooking meat.
|
|
Jessie
Admin
CleverComment
A Band of Misfits
Posts: 226
|
Post by Jessie on Apr 22, 2012 14:35:21 GMT -5
Still gasping for air, the narrow eyes of the Elf browsed over at the Mag as he stretched forth, a silent tension in the air as the scaled being departed into the Jungle, in search of food. In his absence, Mithos took the time for himself, gazing around his surroundings. Even with rest, the events of the previous day were a blur, or that of unknown. Based on Ao’s storytelling, much more happened than he was aware of. And this concerned him, greatly.
The chirping of birds sounded off into the morn as the sun steadily peaked from the horizon, the fluent yellow hues above, swirling into that of blinding blues and orange. A gentle breeze puffed through the camp, and the coolness against the tanned face was more relaxing than expected. This place, it was too tranquil to his liking.
A sigh emitted from the warlock, his body becoming more shifty and eager to move. If he could take off before Ao returned, the better off for the both of them. But even with that kind of motivation, he couldn’t even attempt to pry himself off the ground, continuing to sit like a gazed remnant.
Moments passed, and the heavy steps of the draconic returning crunched beneath dead leaves and thirsty grass. In the clawed hand of the Dragon breed, as a deceased fawn, a small burn mark seen at its’ upper hind leg. Intently, Mithos watched as Ao trotted around the camp, composing that of a grill-like system and setting the meal to cook upon the fire remains of last nights’ warmth. His expression showing nothing but a glassy, weakened form.
“You will travel with me. We must have that hand looked at,’ the Magundi mentioned, causing the Elf to raise his head in question. “And if I object?” he inquired, his sour scowl sitting along his cheeks as he stared hard at the Drake halfbreed.
|
|
|
Post by mourninglife on Apr 22, 2012 16:24:48 GMT -5
"Hm.... I don't think you can even walk away if you'd object to it." Ao spoke, slowly returning to his normal self. He promptly spat out the fawn's blood as soon as he realized he still had some in his mouth, away from Mithos. A shudder ran through his body for a second before he reached out to turn over the meat.
He turned his head to stare at the dark elf, not bothered at the fact the wounded merc had also been staring at him. His sour scowl told him all he needed to know and he let out a sigh at his thoughts.
"I'm sure you'd need two working hands so just trust me on this, okay?" He attempted to persuade the merc, only to realize it probably came out poorly than he had planned. Nevertheless, he continued on, "Besides, I"m sure wherever we're going, there would be better help than just water for your wounds."
With that, he focused on the meat, selecting the smallest one and handed it over to Mithos. He then selected the similar size for himself, ripping it apart easily with his fangs. As he ate and selected another piece of meat, he thought over his words. Speaking of the wounds, they were in need of changing now.
"I think it's time to change the bandages." The hybrid pointed out, swallowing a clump of chewed meat down his throat.
|
|
Jessie
Admin
CleverComment
A Band of Misfits
Posts: 226
|
Post by Jessie on Apr 22, 2012 16:37:22 GMT -5
A low growl toned out of the Elf at the insight that it was the truth- he couldn't run away, even if he wanted to at the moment. He wasn't even certain of himself if he could stand properly. If sitting up was such a task, just the thought alone pained him, a thrust of physical pain from his side pounding in his nerves.
"Hmpf..." he muttered immaturely, crossing his arms at his chest in a careless fashion. However, even that caused a series of aches, the contractions from his hands and through his arms causing him to wince noticeably. This was embarrassing, unable to hold up a front, no matter how hard he seem to try.
Hesitantly, Mithos accepted the food from the Mag in his left hand, any movement between his fingers almost impossible with his right, and painful with the left. But at least the gash was centered on the other palm, fingers able to grip lightly onto something as simple as a piece of meat. Gnawing at the flesh, the Dark Elf seem to have been eating slower than even a caterpillar, staring at the slab rather than disposing of it. His eyes grew dreary, and his attention was pulled in many directions at once. His condition, his chances of survival, the drake breed, and the location he had in mind of taking them.
"I told you, I don't need to be babysat. I'm well on my own from here on out," the warlock spat, placing the remaining slab against one of the elevated roots of the tree, before pressing his palms into the dirt, making another attempt of standing.
|
|