Turned Around

DELPHINE

Pull me from the dirt,
No, you don't want me in your garden.

Dandelion, dandelion.

Delphine nodded slowly, pointing towards the mountain, "If we get seperated I go towards the mountain, and I'll find the road to the portal and it'll be to the left to get home." She repeated, out loud. That was good, a landmark was something she could use to not get lost again.

When he explained the plan, she nodded slowly. She moved ahead, staying low and pressed to the wall. If there was anything Delphine could do, it was listen to instructions and obey... For the most part.

This was like leaving the settlement back home, to venture into the unknown. She glanced over her shoulder, not because she didn't trust Korbin to stay with her, but because she didn't want to get too far away from him. The house had felt safe, she realized, as they moved.

Now, in the open... she felt like a deer, caught between two hunters.

KORBIN

And round about his home the glory
That blushed and bloomed,

The moment they left the shadow of the house, there came a slam as of a door being thrown open amidst the buildings beyond. There were no shouts, no dogs barking, no running feet, but that only made the hairs on Korbin's neck stand up even more. He picked up his pace until he was side by side with Delphine and quietly urged her to pick up the pace.

Over the sound of their feet crunching in the snow there came a twang, a thin whistle of a projectile speeding through air, and Korbin staggered as something slammed into his shoulder. At first there was only numbness, and he gritted his teeth, made himself keep going; then the pain rose up like a storm, flooding through his senses. There was no time to stop though.

"Now, run!" he hissed at the girl beside him, and reached for her arm to pull her along if she threatened to lag behind. Another arrow came shooting past, but this time it missed, skidding over the snow. Korbin began to zig zag, keeping his eyes on the destination; it was hard to tell if they were being pursued or merely driven off. Could they stop in the shelter, or would they have to keep going? Thinking was hard, every step he took sent a jolt through his back from the arrow that protruded from his shoulder.

Is but a dim-remembered story
Of the old time entombed.

DELPHINE

Pull me from the dirt,
No, you don't want me in your garden.

Dandelion, dandelion.

Delphine held tightly to Korbin, as she ran, hyperaware of the fact he was injured, and would need to be healed, but also aware that it wasn't safe to stop now, if the projectiles were anything to go by.

"Try not to move your arm," she grumbled, gripping tightly. It was easier to follow his zig-zag pattern, even though she stumbled here and there. She was glad he'd made sure she understood where they were going.

And then, she tripped. She let go of him as she tripped, so she'd not pull him down with her. Scrambling, Delphine found her feet only after falling into the snow one more time, effectively soaking her furs.

At least she knew she could survive cold, having shown to Halo with no furs at all. "Who was that?" She hissed, when she finally found her feet and caught back up to Korbin, her gaze focused on his shoulder.

KORBIN

And round about his home the glory
That blushed and bloomed,

He didn't need her to tell him that, and Korbin merely grunted in response. Even holding on to her was exacerbating the pain, and he thought he could feel something warm and sticky trickle down the back. There just wasn't a point in thinking about it, in speaking, in doing anything but press on. One step at a time.

No more arrows were shot after them. Still no dogs, or sounds of pursuit. Still, when Delphine tripped Korbin slowed down and put himself between the girl and the settlement behind them, and remained there until she got her feet under herself again. Then he sped up again, running doggedly towards the crevasse. "No idea. Doesn't matter. Keep going," he gritted out, his face pale and drawn but determined.

Only when they reached the crack where frozen tundra had split open to form a shallow ravine did Korbin slow. Out of breath, cursing quietly the idiocy that made him forego training for so much of Deepfrost, he staggered up against the earth wall and leaned against it. The back of his coat was dark with blood that slowly oozed out around the shaft of the arrow. The fletching was white, made of ningo feathers; it could be made by anyone. A Citadel hunter, a Whitebrim exile, some random traveler not wishing to be disturbed... It really could be anyone.

"Can you... get the arrow out?" he asked, once he was able to breathe properly again. Korbin shot Delphine a glance; he had no idea if she was fit for this kind of excitement. The running, the danger - it took a toll on the most well trained of people. And she did still look very soft in his eyes.

Is but a dim-remembered story
Of the old time entombed.

DELPHINE

Pull me from the dirt,
No, you don't want me in your garden.

Dandelion, dandelion.

Delphine kept up, after she fell. There were no more arrows, and once they reached safety, they stopped. She was panting, chilled and out of breath, but she focused on his request.

"Yeah, I can... do you have a knife?" She was rummaging through her pockets, through her furs, but the knife she'd had on her was gone. Probably lost forever in the snow. Ah, well. She'd have to get a new knife, then.

Without waiting for an answer, she reached to search the man, her other hand pressed firmly against his shoulder. "Back home, the most exciting thing I ever did was go on a mission into the surrounding forest," and she had been mostly useless because she'd grown so sheltered. She grit her teeth as she found the knife the man wore on his belt and straightened.

The woman reached to feel his shoulder, careful of the entrance, but she needed to know if the arrow had pierced all the way through. "This is way more exciting." She breathed, teeth chattering softly. Stopping meant the cold seeped in quicker.

KORBIN

And round about his home the glory
That blushed and bloomed,

Pain. Pure, raw, physical pain. It made a nice contrast to the mental agony he was supposed to be taking a break from. That's why he had gone out here, wasn't it? For a nice relaxing day away from all the sad shit. Ha. He should have known better.

Korbin started fumbling after the knife when Delphine asked for it, but she got to it first. His hands were surprisingly steady, and so were his knees as he hunched down, leaning one shoulder against the wall while he gave up access to the other. Being so tall, it might be hard for her to reach the wound if he stayed upright. How ironic; staying on his feet had always been the only thing he could do. When did he start thinking himself capable of doing more?

"What happened? On your mission?" he asked, steeling himself against what would come. He could hear her teeth clattering; a soft frown creased his brow as Korbin looked over his shoulder at her. "You should remove a layer. Running made you sweat; you need to dry out, then put the clothes back on." He would do the same, once there wasn't a fucking arrow sticking out of his back. Once he was able to move again. Once his thoughts weren't swimming in a crimson sea.

Funny, this. Even in a pinch, even while injured, his mind was so clear. Calmer than it had been in a very long time. Not since the attack. Not since Weaver died.

Was that an answer? Did Korbin actually belong out here, on the Tundra?

Is but a dim-remembered story
Of the old time entombed.

DELPHINE

Pull me from the dirt,
No, you don't want me in your garden.

Dandelion, dandelion.

The arrow was in good, and she closed her eyes, murmuring, "There's a really good chance that once I pull it out, I'll catch an artery." She was talking to herself, as she shrugged her outermost layer off. When he asked what happened, she smiled sadly.

"I was... the grand healer, at the time. And I was the only healer available to go into the forest, I lived in a really tropical area, we were heading to meet the natives--we were outlanders there too." As she spoke, she was trying to remember the various pictures of anatomy she'd drawn once upon a time. "I had found out I was pregnant with my girls, right before the mission... and I knew if I told my husband, he'd send the mission without a healer. But in my world, using healing magic chipped away at my own health," she slowly worked the tip of the knife around the arrow, she had to widen the entrance to safely remove the entire thing. Not that it'd really be safe.

"...so I was pretty useless anyway, but we made it about halfway to our destination before someone figured it out. Loren, I think. They took me home, and... our mission failed." She dug the knife a little deeper, before she took a chance, jerking the arrow back, then up and out.

Not the best way to deal with an arrow wound, but it'd do. She studied the arrow, her hand pressed firmly against the wound, though she had yet to start healing. "I guess, after I lost my kids, I promised myself I'd learn to do more than just heal--but... I'm failing at that." She snorted, as warmth flooded over Korbin's wound.

KORBIN

And round about his home the glory
That blushed and bloomed,

He tried to focus on the story as she began to carve in his back with the knife, but it seemed to him that her words jumped around without meaning. All he really knew was the white-laced edge of pain, washing over him again and again.

No sound issued from him. Somehow, the man even managed to keep the muscles around the wound relaxed. A mental trick taught by Straia, though he always wondered where she picked it up. Childbirth? Personal injuries? Loren's name jumped out at him, a point of familiarity that confused him. She knew Loren? Loren knew her? He should have understood, made the connection but -

The arrow was yanked out and it drew a muffled groan from his throat. Korbin swayed where he stood on his knees, darkness creeping in from the periphery of his vision. "Maybe focus... on healing," he croaked, quietly alarmed by the warm tide that started down his back.

Absurdly, he worried about the tattoo on his back. Would the wound mess up the inkwork? The old man would throttle him if Korbin ruined his work.

Is but a dim-remembered story
Of the old time entombed.

DELPHINE

Pull me from the dirt,
No, you don't want me in your garden.

Dandelion, dandelion.

Delphine dropped the arrow, after deciding it probably wasn't poisoned, and pressed her hands to either side of the boy's shoulder, both to hold him upright and to heal his wound. "It's all right, that's normal." She was calm, though the blood that stained her hands alarmed her. "It's never a good idea to pull an arrow out, because blood loss is a major danger," she murmured, wondering briefly if cannibals could smell blood.

If they could, they were most certainly fucked. Did cannibals develop an ability to smell blood from eating humans? Was that a thing? Her thoughts focused on these questions as she began to heal him.

She envisioned each injured blood vessel piecing itself together. It was slow work, Delphine wasn't used to healing wounds of this caliber, but she knew she could.

When she thought that, perhaps she'd healed him enough that he was no longer at risk of bleeding out, she withdrew her hands to study his wound. If he moved carefully, she could try to lessen the scarring when they could get inside. "Is that okay? It isn't fully healed but if we wait, I can try to lessen the scarring."

Delphine was secretly a perfectionist.

KORBIN

And round about his home the glory
That blushed and bloomed,

Normal or not, it was not a great feeling to have his blood ooze down the back. Risk for bloodloss aside, his clothes were quickly soaking through which was perhaps even more of a danger than the wound itself. With so far to go before they reached the Citadel, he might end up with frostbite from the wet clothes. Or the blood might attract predators - not cannibals perhaps, but Ursurs and wolves - even dragons was a possibility. The dangers of the Tundra were numerous, and not always predictable.

Vanity bid Korbin to stay and keep up the healing. No scars meant no disruption in the inked raven on his back. But staying also meant that the risk for more dangerous encounters increased. He sighed. "I can move. Let's get back to the Citadel."

He staggered to his feet, the surroundings swaying precariously around him. Korbin contemplated shifting, but rejected the idea right away. It would hurt, he couldn't fly anyway, and it would leave Delphine alone to find the way back. There were so many things wrong with that picture that he didn't even know where to begin.

After feebly kicking some snow over the blood he'd shed on the ground - it would make no difference with his clothes soaked - he produced a water skin and drank deeply from it. Then offered it to the girl, before starting back out of the crevasse.

Is but a dim-remembered story
Of the old time entombed.

DELPHINE

Pull me from the dirt,
No, you don't want me in your garden.

Dandelion, dandelion.

Delphine inhaled quietly, thankful the man had decided to forego further healing until they were home safe. She leaned to try and rub some of his blood from her hands, using snow, but the attempt was in vain, in the end, she tossed her gloves on the ground and covered them with snow.

When he staggered, she reached to help him upright, taking the water skin to take a long sip, following after him, pulling the outer layer of furs that she'd removed back around herself, rubbing her hands together. "Take it slow," she cautioned. He could still reopen the wound, given that she didn't completely close it anyway.

The crevasse was an uphill climb and she wasn't too big of a fan, tired from healing, she made herself keep up. It was never too late to start thinking about training, was it?

KORBIN

And round about his home the glory
That blushed and bloomed,

Slow was the only speed he could move at. While less painful than before, the wound still sucked energy from him with every move. Digging into a pocket, Korbin produced a roll of bandage and tied himself a sling out of it, to rest his arm in. While it helped lessen the jostling, his balance took a turn from it and that too kept the pace down.

"Where were you going, on your own?" he asked, when the mouldering pain became too much to carry in silence. Korbin needed a distraction, one that didn't interrupt his survey of the horizon for incoming threats.

If that meant listening to Delphine babbling, so be it. She seemed to like talking about herself anyway; if that story of the mission was true, she might be one of the more egocentric people he had the misfortune to come across.

Is but a dim-remembered story
Of the old time entombed.

DELPHINE

Pull me from the dirt,
No, you don't want me in your garden.

Dandelion, dandelion.

Delphine shrugged, "I left my companion back in Torchline and... Noah seemed busy." She really didn't think it through. Not at all. Any person with foresight would have decided to wait a few days until the road was clear and the portal was dug out, and probably have told someone where they were going.

That... was not Delphine's style. She liked to wing it, and if she got hurt while doing that, then she got hurt. Chaos was the only life she'd known these past few years, and settling into a new life was a bit hard.

But mostly, she was stir-crazy. The Academy was big, sure. But it was still a building with walls and she needed out. "I thought I knew the way." She explained.

KORBIN

And round about his home the glory
That blushed and bloomed,

The reply was simple, and part of him understood her. Korbin had been out here on his own too. But there was a fundamental difference in their situations that made his jaws clench, anger slowly coming to a boil within him again.

"Did it not occur to you to ask someone else for an escort?" he asked, his tone deceptively calm. Light, even, as if they were discussing a missing item on a grocery list. "There are plenty of hunters going out every day, it would not be hard to find someone willing to take you."

Hunters, traders, guard patrols going to the portal and back; with the new light came a surge in activity, as all of Halo emerged to survey the damage and repair, rebuild, revive.

Is but a dim-remembered story
Of the old time entombed.