ain't this the bloodiest mess in the world?
armada healer - TW gore & mental health
08-24-2023, 08:16 PM
She stumbles. The ground beneath her feet seemed to be shifting, moving... heaving? No, that couldn't be right. Fuck, that couldn't be right. Why was everything so fuzzy and out of focus? The scent of blood, heavy and metallic, flooded her senses. Under that, though, Hazel could smell Bas. He was... here was here. That was a relief, he was here. She sagged heavily into his shoulder, leaning on him for support as they walked. Grateful, she lifted her head to take a sip of the water, swishing, spitting to the side. Her pulse hadn't settled. Anxiety still gripped her system, holding on tighter than ever. There's something being given to her now, something pressed into her. A strip of red flesh, taken from the same place Hazel still bled from. This... this was the man who'd done it. The texture of fur beneath her grip is somehow soothing, in a twisted way. "You... you got him?" Pride rings in her tone of voice, though she speaks softly. Bas had taken the flesh from the same man who'd maimed her. The man that wasn't her father, but the way he carried himself. The way he stood. The way he looked. It still made her stomach churn. "Thank you." The words were quiet, spoken into his shoulder as she clutched her prize. "Halo... can we go to her?" Hazel was growing more woozy by the moment, her voice quivering slightly. The strength in her knees was starting to give, though her anxiety didn't subside. Was she trembling? Maybe. Though the General tried desperately to conceal it, tried her best to hold it together, she wasn't well. She was still bleeding fairly profusely, staining her red coat even brighter. "I don't feel so good." A whispered admission. To be frank, Hazel looked like hell as well. |
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| 1. | ain't this the bloodiest mess in the world? | Tall Grass Plains | 02:06 PM, 08-23-2023 | 02:25 AM, 02-13-2024 |