Gone are the days you were there protecting me; so cold, so alone

Every part of him ached. He could only imagine his wounds. Was he broken? Bloody? He certainly felt like it. Yet he was alive, against all of the odds, and for what? To suffer even more? Had he not been through enough already?! He wanted to cry as he laid in the sand but while his argent eyes burned, it wasn't from his salty tears. Despite how water logged he was, he had nothing in him to cry. He had n o t h i n g. He didn't even know where he was, even if it all looked familiar in the blur. Then there was a voice.

"Grim!" the voice cried out, and it was so familiar, but he couldn't place it at first. It wasn't Malachai, it wasn't Sirius... Bowen. Finally, the woman said her name and distant eyes found blurry, orange and cream pelt. "Bow...en," he mumbled, gasping as more water spilled from his lungs. He hadn't understood what she said, and seemed confused when she howled as he shivered. He tried to move again suddenly, but his limps weren't working for him yet and he mostly just flailed and eventually stopped with a sigh and soft whine as Artorias appeared suddenly.

He blinked a few times at his brother as he spoke to him, barely hearing his words. What were they doing here? It hadn't occurred to him that he washed up in Auster, but instead believed they had come to find him. Malachai hadn't come for him, Sirius hadn't come for him... but his family had. "Y-You found me," he sputtered, his vision still blurry as he blinked between Artorias and Bowen.

code © skelle & art © eightysichs 2023
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