Love Makes Me
10-28-2013, 10:48 PM
He was alive. He was technically still in one piece, unless you counted the fact that he was missing some skin and muscle, but other than that, he was for the most part completely in tact. He had managed to best the crazy skull wearing bitch that had decided to try and claim him for her own. He had definitely showed her that he just because he was young didn't mean that he couldn't kick some serious ass if need be. So far, Valhalla was doing good, but he had been injured pretty badly. He could feel the blood pulsing beneath his torn muscles, oozing slowly down his right leg as he walked, trying his best to keep as much as he could from that. More blood trickled from the second bite to the middle of his chest and the gashes across his forehead and muzzle. His left shoulder throbbed lightly, but the pain wasn't that excruciating. He could still walk and orient himself, so he wasn't terribly hurt. He had to return to get his sister back if his Uncle Syrinx didn't succeed in whatever he did. Part of him hoped the russet man would so he didn't have to fight again, as long as Aza came home, whether he brought her back himself, or his uncle did, as long as she was home, it didn't matter how she came back. As he moved away, there was one prevalent name in his thoughts; Meili. His little woman. He had told her he would be safe and that he would be coming back to her. And that's what he was doing. He wasn't necessarily in the best of conditions, but he was still alive and mostly whole, so he had made good with his word. Nostrils quivered, trailing her scent from Valhalla all the way to Seracia. He was glad that she had managed to get out before Glaciem would take the rest of the pack hostage, but it was putting a strain on the young Heir as he made the trek to Seracia. He probably should've gotten treated first, but he needed to see Meili first. That was more important than getting himself patched up. It would take him a good while to reach the Seracian border, his body screaming at him to stop. And he did. Involuntarily. His legs gave out beneath him and the young Adravendi would collapse in a heap at the border, ceruleans dancing across the somewhat familiar territory. Lips would part as a weak call would erupt from his jaws, trying to call out to Meili. Would she hear him? He desperately hoped so. He needed to see her. Lids would fall closed over his eyes, chest heaving as he tried to regain his strength, audits raised to attention as he tried to catch the sound of pawsteps approaching. Talk like this |
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