Damien
"I never see you at the club!"
Okay? I never see you at the creek
Okay? I never see you at the creek
The woodsman caught sight of Kaisel in the corner of his vision, rolling on the ground like a fish out of water—it was either a dance move or a small seizure—but the voices around him were turning from sharp to laughing. Damien blinked once, slow, then looked away. Whatever it was, it was working, and that was enough.
The kitten wriggled against his chest, claws kneading through his shirt as its tail twitched back and forth. He shifted it carefully into the crook of his arm, checking the shallow scratch it had left across his own forearm without much thought. He was used to worse. What pulled his focus instead was the awkward angle of the little creature’s hind leg. The paw hung limp, swelling around a jagged gash that looked fresh enough to sting but not deep enough to kill.
“Easy now,” he murmured, voice low in his throat. The cuff’s glow faded as he peeled a strip from the inside hem of his shirt, twisting the cloth until it tore. He wasn’t a healer, not by a long shot, but he’d set enough snares and seen enough wounds to know that pressure and stillness went a long way. He wrapped the strip clumsily around the leg, snug enough to hold but loose enough not to cut off blood, tying the knot with calloused fingers. The kitten hissed once, then sagged into him, bone-deep tired.
“Better,” Damien said, though it wasn’t meant for anyone but the creature. He glanced up at the street around him, scanning for movement, for signs of anyone who might claim it. Families had drifted back into Stormbreak, bit by bit. Someone had to be missing this ball of fur. His eyes caught on a little cluster of children further down the lane, perched on a doorstep, watching Zavien cut through vines with the sword.
He strode over, crouched in front of them, and held the kitten out gently. “This little one yours?” he asked. The kids’ faces lit up, recognition plain in the sudden wave of chatter. One of them scooped the kitten carefully from his hands, hugging it tight against her chest.
Damien rose, dusted his palms on his trousers, and gave a short nod. That was one thing off the list. His forearm stung from the scratch, his shirt was a strip shorter, but the kitten had found its home again. Good enough.
He turned back toward the others, rolling his sleeve down over the scratch as he moved. Zavien’s sword still hissed through the fountain vines, Kaisel had somehow wrangled two grown men into hauling glass. Damien flexed his fingers once and eyed the next bit of rubble, already falling back into rhythm. There was always another task waiting.
Damien bandages the kitten's leg and finds some kids that will give it a home!
The kitten wriggled against his chest, claws kneading through his shirt as its tail twitched back and forth. He shifted it carefully into the crook of his arm, checking the shallow scratch it had left across his own forearm without much thought. He was used to worse. What pulled his focus instead was the awkward angle of the little creature’s hind leg. The paw hung limp, swelling around a jagged gash that looked fresh enough to sting but not deep enough to kill.
“Easy now,” he murmured, voice low in his throat. The cuff’s glow faded as he peeled a strip from the inside hem of his shirt, twisting the cloth until it tore. He wasn’t a healer, not by a long shot, but he’d set enough snares and seen enough wounds to know that pressure and stillness went a long way. He wrapped the strip clumsily around the leg, snug enough to hold but loose enough not to cut off blood, tying the knot with calloused fingers. The kitten hissed once, then sagged into him, bone-deep tired.
“Better,” Damien said, though it wasn’t meant for anyone but the creature. He glanced up at the street around him, scanning for movement, for signs of anyone who might claim it. Families had drifted back into Stormbreak, bit by bit. Someone had to be missing this ball of fur. His eyes caught on a little cluster of children further down the lane, perched on a doorstep, watching Zavien cut through vines with the sword.
He strode over, crouched in front of them, and held the kitten out gently. “This little one yours?” he asked. The kids’ faces lit up, recognition plain in the sudden wave of chatter. One of them scooped the kitten carefully from his hands, hugging it tight against her chest.
Damien rose, dusted his palms on his trousers, and gave a short nod. That was one thing off the list. His forearm stung from the scratch, his shirt was a strip shorter, but the kitten had found its home again. Good enough.
He turned back toward the others, rolling his sleeve down over the scratch as he moved. Zavien’s sword still hissed through the fountain vines, Kaisel had somehow wrangled two grown men into hauling glass. Damien flexed his fingers once and eyed the next bit of rubble, already falling back into rhythm. There was always another task waiting.
Damien bandages the kitten's leg and finds some kids that will give it a home!
