YOUR WORDS DRIP LIKE RANCID WINE. WHO KNEW SOMETHING ALREADY ROTTEN COULD ROT FURTHER.
His breath was caught in his throat as he stared at the helpless little bird before him, brow furrowed and set deep in worry. She was barely awake - how long had she been under? How long had the breath left her lungs before it forced its way back in?
So many thoughts raced through his bloody head that he scarcely heard his two sons approach. But he heard their exclamations, the connotations in their tone, and his skin prickled. Nerves along his back lit up like a wildfire, and the crimson-soaked crown whipped up and towards them. Red eyes, surrounded by dripping red, met the two bewildered pairs beside him.
There was a brief silence. He was a horrible father, and not good with words by any stretch of the imagination.
"Siavax, Cynix.." he murmered, his eyes softening, "Your mother needs a healer." The words breathless from his lips. She couldn't help herself now, and Torstein was left with the sour reminder that he had two options.
Trek a week away to the Day court and heal the little bird there - if she made it - or take her to the Night court and risk accusations.
Gentle eyes stared down at the mare at his knees, and then flitted to the incoming tide. It was angry and ravenous, and it threatened to swallow them whole, like it had done to her before.
His massive head dipped under her tiny one, gently coercing her head and neck to drape over his own. She felt cold and weak, and his heart hurt.
I'll ruin you. He had warned her.
His gut twisted, lips tightening into thin lines. "Boys, help me get your mother back to Denocte." This might seal his fate - who on earth would believe the Giant when he said he never touched a hair on her, especially when he was covered in sticky blood? But he would be damned if he left Araxes suffer on his watch. Damn what the bats think.
chest cavity: closed // words: 2505 // headshot
@Araxes @cynix @siavax
[ please tag @Torstein in all replies ]
I have three eyes
TWO TO LOOK ONE TO SEE
