09-25-2021, 01:50 PM
selaphiel
He does not feel the way she nudges him desperately, trying in vain to rouse him. No, he is too far gone for that.
But the body works to heal itself, stitching the skin back together, drawing the ice from his hooves to the throat, stemming the flow of the blood. It does so without his even having to ask it, the ice working to save the felled angel.
He does not hear her, cannot answer the questions she asks. He swims in such a deep darkness, impenetrable as the shadows that had fallen over Beqanna during the Eclipse.
Several moments pass while the body works to restore itself and only when the throat has repaired itself, leaving behind the jagged edge of a scar, does he begin to clamber himself out of that darkness. He sucks in a sharp, world-swallowing breath, as the heart in his chest takes back up its persistent beat.
He is alive.
Or he is born again.
And he forces open his eyes, too exhausted to register the stranger’s presence with any level of surprise. It seems like the natural order of things through the haze in his mind, that he should wake up on the forest floor and she should be standing over him with that expression on her face.
He lifts his weary head first and then uses all of his remaining energy to haul himself to his feet. He stands there, limbs trembling, and tries to steady his breathing.
“I’m sorry if I startled you,” he murmurs, the most he can offer her. It’s clear by the expression on her face that he had and the words are empty but it’s all he has. He sways on his feet and drags in another shuddering breath, though the air is tinged still with that awful stench of death.
He had always thought his own would smell different than the rest.
I just bite my tongue a bit harder
@Trandafir