i'm a slave to all these voices in my head.
11-07-2013, 06:25 PM
Bronze was not okay -- but he was certainly alive. Physically he was healing, albeit slowly. The soreness in the side of his neck had subsided but the wound on the side of his ribcage was deep and had yet to fully heal. He had received no help, but even if it had been offered to him, he would have rejected any offers of medical assistance. Briefly after the siege he was certain he would die, so dejected and ashamed did he feel; but he had lived, and though it seemed a permanent limp had affected his gait, he was not yet approaching death. All he knew was that he was a prisoner here, and he would not leave without a fair fight. He was unwilling to anger this pack that had taken him and threaten the safety of Seracia, of his own wife and children if he dared to anger these wolves. They were clearly capable of things that he was not. He had never expected to lose so easily, but it had been so long since he had fought... A sigh left his lips as he settled himself down near a tall pine. Winter would be here soon, and he could not imagine living here through the harsh season. No. His wife needed him, and so did his children. But Seracia would care for them without him. They would not fail without him, and while that thought comforted him in one way -- that they would be safe if he somehow never returned -- but it also made him feel replaceable and made his existence seem all that less meaningful. Quietly he would curl his body to a more comfortable position, leaning to lap at his healing wound, wincing slightly at the feeling of his tongue against the sensitive flesh. |
