The Morning After – Pre-Dawn – Still Dark The waking came with a shift in breathing. He’d been breathing relatively steadily, if not deeply. An ear flickered at distant pack sounds, a sign of a greater awareness. It was a long thirty minutes of a slow, muddy slog toward the surface. It was tempting to slide back to the black nest he’d been tossed into at the bottom of the mountain. It was comfortable there. But Cairo Adravendi could be a dogged creature, and so he stayed awake, though his eyes remained squinched shut. Instead he listened, and began automatically cataloging his body for hurts that should have rightly been there. His rib cage felt like he'd been bound up in something. Both right legs felt oddly stiff, and tiny movements to test them sent bolts of agony through his whole body, bruises complaining as his abused muscles tensed from the pain. A grunt hissed through his nose. But the pain faded very quickly, probably dampened by medication. As long as he stayed still, nothing would break through. But the memory of the real pain before his crack on the head persisted. It was hard to convince his body and mind that there was no actual pain right now. His head was bound up, judging from a tightness around his skull. His legs must be splinted as well, then. The surroundings sounded wrong. Unfamiliar. The smells were only familiar because he had recently met Sirius, and—One ear perked, the other too well ensconced in furs or some sort of padding to follow suit. He remembered quite clearly the tumble down the mountain side, and every impact on the way down. Broken legs, broken ribs… He was going to be so far delayed in his rise to Sentinel… And he wasn’t even home. He almost groaned at the thought. Why could he smell traces of Paladin? There were a lot of questions whirling around his head, but for the time being, he contented himself with just… Keeping his eyes closed and listening, smelling and feeling. He was alive. There was that. He didn’t feel like he’d lost any blood, either, since he didn't necessarily feel weak, per say. Just tired. Chrystal… Where was Chrystal? For all that he was worried, he could only hope that his trusted companion was nearby, keeping watch over him. He hadn't realized just how much he'd come to rely on the barn owl. Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think

Malalia had decided to set up station where they plopped down the injured Valhallan, tugging a bison pelt over herself as she settled down a few feet away. Her breaths were regular, if a little fast; she slept lightly, every now and again raising her head in a yawn, and casting a worried glance at her friend. She'd told Paladin she'd do her best to be there when he woke, and so she would. Her best being vague plans to come and see about her friend in her spare time -- which would be increasingly scarce as the responsibilities of her new rank piles on. Still, she'd decided to spend this first night near to him. Just in case.

It was a comforting, nerve-wracking thing to be near Cairo. She could lay her own eyes upon him and know that he was alive, and was ultimately going to be alright. She could chew over her thoughts, too, pondering what his injuries meant for his goals, nervous for the possibility that he might not remember everything, or maybe even her. And it was all to easy to recall that one moment, that heartbeat that she thought he might be gone. Alive for the moment, perhaps, but broken beyond repair.

It was a lucky thing that Cairo had awoken as early he did, or else she likely would've been gone on some errand for the pack. Malalia had stirred again a few minutes before he did. She watched, blinking awake as the wolf slowly came to awareness. The young woman laid her head on her paws in silent vigil, noting the change in his breathing and the tiny flicker of movement there and again, her own ears twitching at the grunt he’d made.

He didn’t open his eyes yet, and that was curious. “…Cairo? You there?” Her voice was gentle, questioning but calm. Remembering Paladin’s words from earlier, she didn’t want to startle him with her own anxiety… He was awake, though, wasn’t he? Man, this was out of her element…


"Speech"

The voice was familiar, welcome. Some of his anxiety faded as an ear swiveled toward her, though he kept his eyes closed for another long moment before he let one slide open to find the girl. He took in the worry and concern before a tired smile twitched onto his features. “I’m here, Lia.” He didn’t cast his eyes about them, just drinking in the sight of his friend as he added, “Wherever here is. Pro Tip for staying alive? Don’t fight a mountain.” He wanted to get that worry out of her eyes, and hopefully, the joke would help settle her worries. He ran his mind back over what he remembered before his skull had lit up in pain and he’d been thrown into oblivion. His body twinged in memory of every impact, but in memory only. “How’d I get … here. Did you find me or..? And where's Chrystal?” Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think

He smiled, and he spoke, and Mal’s tail swept across the floor of Io’s cottage as his sapphire gaze settled on her. In a few short sentences he’d proven that his memory was indeed intact, and relief clicked into place, the tension slowly bleeding out of her. He was whole. Well, relatively. She sighed through her nose, head plopping down on her paws. Thank the gods. Not that she was very religious... but the girl had been gripped with a wretched helplessness as she watched him from afar. There was little she could do.

Hearing his advice, she chuckled softly. “I’ll keep that in mind, mountainbane.” She crawled a little closer now, shaking off the bison fur. “We’re in our healer’s den. In the Armada. Sirius found you — well, Chrystaloria found Sirius and led him to where you’d fallen. She found Paladin, too. He was nearby and he patched you up,” she explained. “And then Sirius sent his bear to the Armada for a wagon to carry you back, and I tagged along. And now... now you’re here.”

As for his companion. “I... I believe she flew back to Valhalla to let the others know what happened.” The fae hadn't caught sight or scent of his companion when she entered, and her tone was not without apology. She paused, then, cracking a slight grin of her own. “So, I'm guessing ‘how are you feeling’ is probably a dumb question, huh?”


"Speech"