The Strength to Carry On
07-02-2013, 03:13 PM
Masqurading as a man with a reason My charade is the Event of the season I hear the voices when I'm dreaming I can hear them say: ~*~ Gargoyle heard Awaken through the haze. He didn't give any sign of noticing the slip up (not til later anyway) but he did push his nose towards the poppy seeds and flick out a tongue to lick them up. Chewing took too much work. He just swallowed them whole - though even that caused enough pain in his neck to make him see little shooting stars for a minute. There was still commotion going on, but he was starting to get a handle on it. Zanire was here, and she was guarding the cave. Awaken was trying to heal him - hang on - Awaken? Healing? Gargoyle's almost bulged. He was gonna die. He heard Mercianne's voice then, though it was echoy and distorted, coming from the other end of the cave tunnel. He recognized it all the same, and he felt better to have a medic here. Mercianne had trained under Asheni and Soleil; she knew her stuff. ....But even so. Gargoyle didn't know if there'd be any recovery for him this time. That was alot of blood he'd lost, and frankly, he'd only felt this weak once before. Course, he'd survived that, hadn't he? Honestly, he was too detached to care at this point. All he knew was the moment. And in this moment he heard Ocena's voice. That voice was one that he loved, one that could call him away from his wrestling with his demons, the one that could touch his heart like no other. And that voice sounded sad. It sound scared. It agitated the male still he'd shifted around enough to support his neck. He lifted up his head just in time to hear his mate asking if there was anything she could do. "Ocena..." he said in tired, hushed tones. He was calling to her. He knew what she could do; she could come sit beside him. That was all he could possibly want. Carry on my Wayward Son There'll be peace when you are done Lay your weary head to rest Don't you Cry No More |