Driftwood err Driftwolf?

Consciousness seemed to come and go rather like the lights of the fireflies.  Sometimes when he opened his eyes he imagined that’s all he could see through blurred slitted eyes and they closed again.  Exhaustion in every sort of way told him to sleep, constant pain and new fresh pain with every stride Fern took kept rousing him.  At points, he had a clear set of reality in what had happened and at others, he didn’t even recognize why he was in pain.  

Like a jolt of electricity was Art’s voice yelling at him, somehow both giddy and guilty trying to recall why for both.  As he was lifted from Fern’s back there was both the familiarity of Art’s breath and then touch and a new round of soaring waves of pain from more movement.  Rudy struggled like some weak pup for the moment he was settled down before going still, breath coming out in rasps.  With a moment of clarity from new sharp pain, he focused on Art’s face, willing himself to be aware if only for a few moments.

The touch of bandages to his tail had his head come up faster than he thought possible as if he’d bite at whatever had just hurt him so much at that touch but then the head fell back down.  Not with the amount of blood he’d lost.  He’d be the easiest prey in the world for anything right now.  Strained eyes looked at Art, demanding he not lose awareness yet, “Oxx,” the words a soft whisper, “he’s out here.” Focusing was so hard.  There was more he needed to tail him, a second ago he’d had it but confusion set in, pain was setting in with every touch.  Rudy shut his eyes silently begging him to lose consciousness. “My tail,” the soft whisper of complaint.  The nerves were afire with every touch.

He had needed desperately to tell Art something? It was so important!  “Messenger…” There was a message he was supposed to pass on.  That’s why he was left alive to suffer.  An important message.  “Please stop,” He couldn’t take it damn it!! Screw the bandages, it wasn’t worth it.  Rudy really felt like demanding them to stop uncaring of the danger to himself if only he could make them stop.  Helpless.  He didn’t like feeling helpless.

“Oxx,” the word repeated as he recalled again there was something important to say.  He stared up at Art, “He wants,” the name came to him, Bowen.  He wanted their sister.  Rudy tried to get it out now that he finally remembered it.  Another wave of pain, confused eyes stared at Art for a moment before his head slid limp again and the eyes shut.  Mercifully unconsciousness called to him.  His last moment was remembering it was urgent he tells Art about Bowen.  In his mind he did, he could hear himself, and then darkness greeted him and made the pain stop for the moment.

Rudyard Carpathius