Putrid Pride

When he finally heard her weakened response, it brought a fraction of relief- but of course, it was short lived. “Absinth!” Aresenn's own voice was becoming raw, almost hoarse from his own pleas. While he couldn't have anticipated it, he could see that she wanted to rise, to gain her feet and stand before him, but the pain and weakness in her body seemed insurmountable. As she made a staggered attempt to stand, he was caught between the desire to steady her, and being afraid to touch her. With every labored step she took, her side would cry out, threatening to bring her to her knees once more. But still, she fought. She stumbled. And she hit the ground before his eyes. "Be still.” He insisted. She needn't exert herself any further, though her determination and inner strength shining through despite her fragile state. It tore him to pieces- she was ... so broken.

No. She wasn't. He wouldn't allow himself to think that.

Aresenn choked on his frustration, mind reeling for a solution as he focused on his companion. He could hear her ragged breaths, feel the heat radiating from her body, and see her grapple with the state of her being. They needed help. "Listen to me, Absi.” He made another attempt at her attention- though he wasn't sure if she could hear him, or even begin to understand. "You are whole, and you are safe. I just need you to hang on.” He said sternly, whether it was reassurance for her or himself, he wasn't sure. He didn't wait to see recognition. As gingerly as he could, he lowered his muzzle to get beneath her. The contact of his own wounds burned like fire, and his blood smeared against her ivory coat. But as he pulled her into place atop his shoulders, he was quick to set in motion. He needed to find her a healer, and unfortunately, he could only think of one.

-Exit-
"Aresenn Praetor"