Kindred spirits

Kaneonuskatew · 05-12-2021, 06:48 PM

Kane had only barely managed to stay on his feet throughout the journey back to the Hallows. Gwynevere had been so patient and gentle with him, checking on the limping man almost every step of the way and keeping him talking, probably so she would know he was still kicking. But as their trek wound on, Kane's gait became more and more unsteady, aching muscles and fatigued brain working against him. The headache had turned into a pull on pounding inside his skull I time with his beating heart, his vision fading in and out as blackness crept into the edges of his periphery. His breathing was hard and labored, punctuated by the occasional grunt as he forced himself forward. By the time the two wolves had reached the border that reeked of other wolves, Kane was incoherently mumbling to himself. He saw the silhouettes of two wolves coming towards them—and then he saw the ground as he collapsed where he stood. Darkness finally overtook his vision, and Kane slipped seamlessly out of consciousness.

In the empty void of nothingness, Kane felt like he was floating. He was only distantly aware of someone poking and prodding, putting pressure here and adjusting something there all across his body. It was like his mind was watching and feeling what his body felt through proxy, detached yet connected at the same time. His heart beat continued to fill his ears, thumping strong and steady, preventing him from dying. At some point during his experience, Kane regained consciousness for just long enough to see Gwynevere tending to his wounds, his body numb to the stings of pain from his body protesting to her touches. He tried to lift his head to show signs of life, but his body felt like it was made of lead, and all he could do was flex his paws and give a quiet whine. Then he was gone again.

When Kane woke up, the world was dark. Everything was quiet, save for the occasional crackle of a fire somewhere in the room. His muscles still felt sore and tired, but the pain had all but subsided from his body by now. Gwyn must have given him some incredible painkillers for him to not even feel the hole in his shoulder anymore. With a low groan, the injured brute shifted and raised his head to gather his surroundings. He was in a room made of stone, wooden cots with old mattresses arranged about the space. He was occupying one of the cots, reclined into the plush bedding with some furs draped over him, the mattress stained in some spots with his dried blood from where Gwyn had worked on him. Two thin windows on the far wall allowed silvery moonlight to stream into the infirmary, coupled with the orange glow from the fireplace opposite the windows created an almost ethereal glow in the room. Kane was alone for now, but he didn't mind the solitude, especially not at night. He glanced outside the window at the starry night sky, giving a soft whine of longing while he watched the stars twinkle. He couldn't go outside, so he would have to miss his prayer for tonight.

The sound of claws clicking quietly against stone caught the brute's acute hearing, his head snapping to the only doorway in and out of the room in time to spot a smaller wolf slipping inside like a living shadow, graceful and fluid, and black as midnight. The white fur accenting around her face was stark to the rest of her, noticeable even at a distance, and highlighting her mint green eyes which he saw when she came closer to his bed, leaving a respectable distance between them. Kane just watched her move for a moment, briefly considering if Death had adopted a much more pleasant form to try and claim him with, until the stranger began to speak. Her words her soft and mellifluous, and her smile was kind and warm. She introduced herself as Tamsyn, Gwynevere's mother, and thanked him for saving the girl. He could tell she was a mother; she bore the aura of love and care that all mothers should have.

Kane returned her smile, his a little more wild and roguish, but greatly subdued from general weariness and the high amount of painkillers in his system. "Hello, Tamsyn," he replied, his voice still a little rough from fatigue and how parched he had become during his surgery, though it was clear his voice would always be husky and low. "I can see the family resemblance between you two. Your daughter is one hell of a medic." He chuckled under his breath, then nodded his head slowly. "Yeah, my name's Kane. It's a pleasure to meet you."

In the low light, he could just make out the shapes of the scars over the right side of her feminine features, and an intense curiosity to ask about them burned in his brain. He restrained himself for now though, contenting himself to share basic pleasantries with his host. "Gwynevere saved my life. I owe you all a debt for your care and hospitality. Without you, I'd be dead." He gazed into those deep pools of unique mint seeming to shine brightly in the dark as he spoke, holding her gaze while she seemed to be inspecting him—sizing him up, perhaps? He wondered what her final appraisal of him would be.

"Kane"

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Kindred spirits

Kane

Kaneonuskatew