”Lass, you dropped the dagger on your own. I don’t owe you anything,” he repeated, though his voice was oddly gentle as he humored her with conversation. ”Nor was I the one to wound you so sorely. Right now you need bandages more than weapons.” Not that he expected her to listen to him, much less agree. But until she let him close enough to try and start putting pieces back together, the best he could do was keep her awake and talking. Head wounds were nasty things, and he was glad Isla had passed on her knowledge of how to treat them before she had… Well. That was a story for another time.
He wasn’t inclined to let her fall asleep in her state, no matter how it might have made carrying her easier. He never let the silence pass for more than a minute or two before he shifted his weight, or coughed, or cleared his throat – any number of annoying little sounds to prevent her from sliding towards unconsciousness. Carrying her was going to be no picnic, and that was before the storm complicated things!
Her sudden question, however mumbled, brought his attention back to her and he chuckled a little. ”Generally if someone is trying to kill you, they don’t start with small talk and asking what happened,” he explained. ”They approach quietly and they stab, or they stand back and shoot bolts or arrows into your body to make sure the job is done right. And if they think you’re already dead and are coming to loot your corpse, they don’t try and talk to you.”
He crouched, bringing himself closer to her level, though he kept his distance. She was drifting, and he frowned slightly as he tried to decide what to do with her when the storm passed. The Infirmary, as soon as possible, but he was no thick-thewed powerhouse like Remi, to lift someone and carry them over field and dale. Still, she was a scrawny thing, and had lost a lot of blood. If he could get her as far as the Sanctuary he could get help bringing her the rest of the way…
Her question brought the smile back to his face and he chuckled again at her curiosity. ”It only grows in the Labyrinth. Nasty place. The hedge walls are full of thorns and they move once you’re inside to try and trap you. The speaking squirrels lure you in deeper and deeper until the boggarts make their move. If they can’t scare you to death by taking nightmare images from your mind, they can still do a number on you with wicked teeth and claws. Not a place to go without a guide, or preparation for how to get out again,” he cautioned, though the little princess wouldn’t be going anywhere near it anytime soon, not with those injuries.
He wasn’t inclined to let her fall asleep in her state, no matter how it might have made carrying her easier. He never let the silence pass for more than a minute or two before he shifted his weight, or coughed, or cleared his throat – any number of annoying little sounds to prevent her from sliding towards unconsciousness. Carrying her was going to be no picnic, and that was before the storm complicated things!
Her sudden question, however mumbled, brought his attention back to her and he chuckled a little. ”Generally if someone is trying to kill you, they don’t start with small talk and asking what happened,” he explained. ”They approach quietly and they stab, or they stand back and shoot bolts or arrows into your body to make sure the job is done right. And if they think you’re already dead and are coming to loot your corpse, they don’t try and talk to you.”
He crouched, bringing himself closer to her level, though he kept his distance. She was drifting, and he frowned slightly as he tried to decide what to do with her when the storm passed. The Infirmary, as soon as possible, but he was no thick-thewed powerhouse like Remi, to lift someone and carry them over field and dale. Still, she was a scrawny thing, and had lost a lot of blood. If he could get her as far as the Sanctuary he could get help bringing her the rest of the way…
Her question brought the smile back to his face and he chuckled again at her curiosity. ”It only grows in the Labyrinth. Nasty place. The hedge walls are full of thorns and they move once you’re inside to try and trap you. The speaking squirrels lure you in deeper and deeper until the boggarts make their move. If they can’t scare you to death by taking nightmare images from your mind, they can still do a number on you with wicked teeth and claws. Not a place to go without a guide, or preparation for how to get out again,” he cautioned, though the little princess wouldn’t be going anywhere near it anytime soon, not with those injuries.
