Spitting residue onto the earth at his feet, Raul watched impassively as things spoken and unspoken passed between the other two. There was pain in the other males face, masked by a thin shell of anger and incredulity. For a moment, the pale gold coated boy almost felt sorry for him. Even still, he had a feeling that the result would have been the same, even if he had known.
Tipping his crown slightly in acknowledgment of Clayton's icy farewell, he took it as a silent forfeit. An impression which was underscored by his swift departure. Gravely, he stepped closer to the splashed girl, grimacing at the lingering pain in his throat. Pain or no, things needed saying now that he was able. His shoulder and hip grazed hers in the lightest of touches, offering tacit comfort if that was what she needed. "I'm... sorry. If I've interfered in something. But... he does not fight for you. I would. He does not know what you've seen. I do. And," He paused, resting the gravelly fragment of his voice for a moment. "Warlight. It's a beautiful name. Brightness in troubled times. Suits you."
His throat ached from this short speech, the iron tang of blood still strong on his tongue. She was so thin now, hip and shoulder bones laid against his. It was misery to watch someone waste like this. Was his mother ill, his brother? Would they be dead before he could reach them again? Another cough burst from his chest, lips spattered with droplets of blood. Inhaling deeply at the end, his head dropped once more. Rest was a good suggestion. One they both ought to follow. Small points of contact, yet they were things he'd grown used to since they'd left Pangea. The security of another being nearby. It had become hard to rest without that, without her.
Tiny points of contact, and it seemed he could feel the fever burning through her skin and bones. A wildfire eating at her, until a dry husk is all that would remain. Halfway dreaming, he saw the fire blaze inside her. Hotter than hell, consuming everything it came across. It would burn him up too, if he let it. He couldn't outrun it. Maybe he could fight it. Fire would not eat water, and so that's what he pictured. Water, cool, fresh water. A stream, a river, a flood of it. Fire died at his feet, until only patches of embers remained.
Smoking stumps, smoldering grass, it wasn't dead, no matter how much he poured into it. But it didn't burn so hotly now. It lingered in the background, sending streamers of pearly grey smoke into a sky the same color as her eyes. Gradually the dream shifted until the fire faded from memory. Instead it was cold, the stars glittering overhead in a lacy canopy. Snowflakes drifted from the cloudless sky.
@[Warlight] A bit of disease suppression for you
Tipping his crown slightly in acknowledgment of Clayton's icy farewell, he took it as a silent forfeit. An impression which was underscored by his swift departure. Gravely, he stepped closer to the splashed girl, grimacing at the lingering pain in his throat. Pain or no, things needed saying now that he was able. His shoulder and hip grazed hers in the lightest of touches, offering tacit comfort if that was what she needed. "I'm... sorry. If I've interfered in something. But... he does not fight for you. I would. He does not know what you've seen. I do. And," He paused, resting the gravelly fragment of his voice for a moment. "Warlight. It's a beautiful name. Brightness in troubled times. Suits you."
His throat ached from this short speech, the iron tang of blood still strong on his tongue. She was so thin now, hip and shoulder bones laid against his. It was misery to watch someone waste like this. Was his mother ill, his brother? Would they be dead before he could reach them again? Another cough burst from his chest, lips spattered with droplets of blood. Inhaling deeply at the end, his head dropped once more. Rest was a good suggestion. One they both ought to follow. Small points of contact, yet they were things he'd grown used to since they'd left Pangea. The security of another being nearby. It had become hard to rest without that, without her.
Tiny points of contact, and it seemed he could feel the fever burning through her skin and bones. A wildfire eating at her, until a dry husk is all that would remain. Halfway dreaming, he saw the fire blaze inside her. Hotter than hell, consuming everything it came across. It would burn him up too, if he let it. He couldn't outrun it. Maybe he could fight it. Fire would not eat water, and so that's what he pictured. Water, cool, fresh water. A stream, a river, a flood of it. Fire died at his feet, until only patches of embers remained.
Smoking stumps, smoldering grass, it wasn't dead, no matter how much he poured into it. But it didn't burn so hotly now. It lingered in the background, sending streamers of pearly grey smoke into a sky the same color as her eyes. Gradually the dream shifted until the fire faded from memory. Instead it was cold, the stars glittering overhead in a lacy canopy. Snowflakes drifted from the cloudless sky.
@[Warlight] A bit of disease suppression for you