Memory Come When Memory's Old

It moved like something dead, strung along the flow of fate with no direction or will of it's own. D?gmar's eyes narrowed as she took in the form of the half dead male. It would be mercy to kill him now but her queen wanted "decorations" in the form of trophy's as a testament to D?gmar's battle skills as well as her blood lust. The death of this whelp would satisfy neither requirement. And yet, as often was the case, her curiosity tickled at her brain. What was a creature of such age doing out on his own anyway? He was a yearling, a rather large one at that and a fighters build. The gears in her mind began to click and hiss.


She knew some basic first aid, as a warrior and Marquis that was practically a requirement. However, she didn't know enough to fully help the boy. He'd need to be taken to a healer to recover and she struggled to recall if Elysium even had one.


"What desire moves a decaying body forward? What do you cling to life for, boy?"