Turned Around

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.