stars, hide your fires; Let not light see my black and deep desires
Oh.
Okay.
Go ahead and stab me, right?
Rory didn't like sharp things pointed at his sternum, much less when the sharp thing was attached to the head of a lean, black horse. It looked evil in the small room, taking up too much space, having rolled in the night sky so it stuck to her skin. Briefly he contemplated heaving himself out of the bed and onto the floor, because it seemed like the wise thing to do when faced with a spear pointing straight towards some of your vital shit, but it also seemed like too much effort. And besides, he'd thought it would be a pretty ironic and amusing way to go. Oh, you know, so I survived my stupid trip outside during Long Night and then I was stabbed to death by this unicorn who was supposed to be my doctor.
His gaze was distrustful and dark though. He'd thought he'd had enough of gambling with his life lately, but apparently not, because there he was, just waiting to see if Isla's medication would be a swift stab to the heart or not.
It wasn't. Surprise surprise! Doctors didn't kill their patients, unless they were bribed, or vengeful. A flash of bright light flooded onto his body, the magic working towards finishing what Vervain had already begun. The worst of the throbbing pain eased.
"Uhm. Thanks," he told the horse.
The fact that her equine body language wasn't on point was still uncanny, but something about the healing (and likely the lessening of the pain he was in; pain made him cranky) had made him a little easier with the fact that she was now chilling out in a unicorn's body. So he transferred his attention entirely to Remi, feeling a little guilty that so far he'd mostly just been bristling like a porcupine at the pair of them.
The story that came out was.. problematic, and very, very sad. Isla had died—and it seemed so utterly impossible, when he thought about the bright-eyed woman moving so easily in the dark, as they gathered firewood together and chatted about the small details of life and death within the barrier. Her confidence, her assurance, the strength in her body: gone.
That the unicorn body had been Ludo's doing was not surprising. Rory bit the inside of his lower lip, and pushed himself up into a more proper, sitting position.
Remi looked like the definition of hell, filthy and tired and dragged through things no one should experience. "Okay," he said after a moment. The word was acceptance of the circumstances: that Isla was now a unicorn, and from what Rory could tell, bonded to Remi like a companion. It would explain why he was able to tell Rory was she wanted, after all. "This.. this is why we don't go outside during Long Night." With his hand, he indicated the unicorn, and then himself. "There was a disturbance at the perch... Amalia and I, and some others, came out to investigate... We fixed it, but here we are. Amalia's somewhere in the Infirmary too."
Rory sighed. "And Sam's right. The bodies are never around, come morning."
Okay.
Go ahead and stab me, right?
Rory didn't like sharp things pointed at his sternum, much less when the sharp thing was attached to the head of a lean, black horse. It looked evil in the small room, taking up too much space, having rolled in the night sky so it stuck to her skin. Briefly he contemplated heaving himself out of the bed and onto the floor, because it seemed like the wise thing to do when faced with a spear pointing straight towards some of your vital shit, but it also seemed like too much effort. And besides, he'd thought it would be a pretty ironic and amusing way to go. Oh, you know, so I survived my stupid trip outside during Long Night and then I was stabbed to death by this unicorn who was supposed to be my doctor.
His gaze was distrustful and dark though. He'd thought he'd had enough of gambling with his life lately, but apparently not, because there he was, just waiting to see if Isla's medication would be a swift stab to the heart or not.
It wasn't. Surprise surprise! Doctors didn't kill their patients, unless they were bribed, or vengeful. A flash of bright light flooded onto his body, the magic working towards finishing what Vervain had already begun. The worst of the throbbing pain eased.
"Uhm. Thanks," he told the horse.
The fact that her equine body language wasn't on point was still uncanny, but something about the healing (and likely the lessening of the pain he was in; pain made him cranky) had made him a little easier with the fact that she was now chilling out in a unicorn's body. So he transferred his attention entirely to Remi, feeling a little guilty that so far he'd mostly just been bristling like a porcupine at the pair of them.
The story that came out was.. problematic, and very, very sad. Isla had died—and it seemed so utterly impossible, when he thought about the bright-eyed woman moving so easily in the dark, as they gathered firewood together and chatted about the small details of life and death within the barrier. Her confidence, her assurance, the strength in her body: gone.
That the unicorn body had been Ludo's doing was not surprising. Rory bit the inside of his lower lip, and pushed himself up into a more proper, sitting position.
Remi looked like the definition of hell, filthy and tired and dragged through things no one should experience. "Okay," he said after a moment. The word was acceptance of the circumstances: that Isla was now a unicorn, and from what Rory could tell, bonded to Remi like a companion. It would explain why he was able to tell Rory was she wanted, after all. "This.. this is why we don't go outside during Long Night." With his hand, he indicated the unicorn, and then himself. "There was a disturbance at the perch... Amalia and I, and some others, came out to investigate... We fixed it, but here we are. Amalia's somewhere in the Infirmary too."
Rory sighed. "And Sam's right. The bodies are never around, come morning."
