Zavien
Fear is pain arising from the anticipation of evil.
His eyes flit up to see the shock spread across Koa's face. Things had felt real before, but saying it aloud... He wants to cry, to vomit, to scream at into the void, to run. So many emotions run through him that a strange numbness settles in his body, only leaving behind a strange buzzing that makes his hands tremble. Zavien tries to smile, to laugh through the insanity of it all, but it comes out as an upward slanted grimace. "I'm uh... better than I should be." Since he should be dead and all.
The 'how' of it was a little easier to talk about than the feelings, and Zavien shifts in his seat. "When I called out to Remi, Sunjata was with him. He had this feather - a revivify feather? I think? - and it brought me back." From being dead and everything. "But... I needed a lot of healing. The thing ripped through me pretty bad..." To say the least. It'd skewered him like a shish kabob, punching right through his lungs.
Since words won't really do the lethal injury justice, he lifts the right side of his shirt to expose the massive scar that now mars the skin. It's still a fresh pink, puckering against the movement of his muscles beneath as it extends from his armpit to mid-abdomen along his flank. There was no mistaking the severity of the injury, although nothing could compare to the pain.
He lowers his shirt again, placing his hand back on Sol's head. "Sunjata, Deimos (Zuriel), and the healers in Halo did a great job stitching me back together..." Like some Frankenstein monster. Not that he remembers much of the initial day, fading in and out of a lucid state filled with blinding pain. It's not a time he likes to recall. Because, did he mention that he'd been dead?
The 'how' of it was a little easier to talk about than the feelings, and Zavien shifts in his seat. "When I called out to Remi, Sunjata was with him. He had this feather - a revivify feather? I think? - and it brought me back." From being dead and everything. "But... I needed a lot of healing. The thing ripped through me pretty bad..." To say the least. It'd skewered him like a shish kabob, punching right through his lungs.
Since words won't really do the lethal injury justice, he lifts the right side of his shirt to expose the massive scar that now mars the skin. It's still a fresh pink, puckering against the movement of his muscles beneath as it extends from his armpit to mid-abdomen along his flank. There was no mistaking the severity of the injury, although nothing could compare to the pain.
He lowers his shirt again, placing his hand back on Sol's head. "Sunjata, Deimos (Zuriel), and the healers in Halo did a great job stitching me back together..." Like some Frankenstein monster. Not that he remembers much of the initial day, fading in and out of a lucid state filled with blinding pain. It's not a time he likes to recall. Because, did he mention that he'd been dead?
