11-05-2018, 08:30 PM
It wouldn’t matter to him if he got infected. No, not really. He figured it would be fitting that he once again gets something that he cannot heal fully. For now he doesn’t much think of it. He was content as they tried to clean him off, clearing away many years of mud and dirt until his coat was almost white again. And once he is mostly clean, he goes to working on the other two, helping all of them get clean and-.
“Tithe, you are bleeding.” He says, pressing his nose to the other male’s nose, automatically pushing some of his limited healing into Tithe’s body. “Are you okay?” A low grade sense of panic starts to thrum through his body. He presses his nose along his shoulder and his neck, then along his barrel checking all the spots that he could and pressing his healing into his body. He then turns to Tindalos and does the same thing, pushing as much of his healing ability into their bodies.
It wouldn’t be enough, never was and he almost lets the panic overcome him. But he manages to keep it buried somewhat, even if his breathing had picked up and he had settled his nose against Tithe again, pressing it against his shoulder. He leans his forehead there, closing his eyes to shut out those horrible memories.
He tries to be an adult about it, tries to just let it slide away. But when he pulls back to meet Tithe’s eyes, it’s simmer there. “Mordgeld, we should find Mordgeld and your baby right?” He turns to look at Tindalos, that same almost panic in his eyes.
He tries to bury it, tries to just push it away into the back of his mind. He tried to reason that blood was just blood sometimes and just because it was a little trickle didn’t mean it was bad. He tried to reason all of this out as they stood there, with the cold water still lapping around their legs.
“Tithe, you are bleeding.” He says, pressing his nose to the other male’s nose, automatically pushing some of his limited healing into Tithe’s body. “Are you okay?” A low grade sense of panic starts to thrum through his body. He presses his nose along his shoulder and his neck, then along his barrel checking all the spots that he could and pressing his healing into his body. He then turns to Tindalos and does the same thing, pushing as much of his healing ability into their bodies.
It wouldn’t be enough, never was and he almost lets the panic overcome him. But he manages to keep it buried somewhat, even if his breathing had picked up and he had settled his nose against Tithe again, pressing it against his shoulder. He leans his forehead there, closing his eyes to shut out those horrible memories.
He tries to be an adult about it, tries to just let it slide away. But when he pulls back to meet Tithe’s eyes, it’s simmer there. “Mordgeld, we should find Mordgeld and your baby right?” He turns to look at Tindalos, that same almost panic in his eyes.
He tries to bury it, tries to just push it away into the back of his mind. He tried to reason that blood was just blood sometimes and just because it was a little trickle didn’t mean it was bad. He tried to reason all of this out as they stood there, with the cold water still lapping around their legs.