[P] Firetrucks don't stop for red lights
Optime | The Ruins (KamKrios Home) | Dated: March 21st | cNPC: Velimir (brief)

For Krios!
“How is the young Lord?” Velimir asked as he passed a basket of bandages and a few other medical items over to her.

Kamari accepted the it, tucking it beneath her arm and against her hip as she leaned against the doorway. “Mending. He’s becoming more and more like his usual self again.” It was a good sign, as it meant he was more on the road to a full recovery than not. Her only true worry now was him getting overly restless with what he could and could not do. She had been frustrated, she remembered, when she’d been healing from Delfina’s attack. Being confined to “light duty” as her wounds mended had been a slow torture for someone as active as she. She didn’t imagine it being much better for her husband either.

Velimir nodded and hummed, letting his burnt orange gaze shift over to her cheek. “And yourself?”

Self-conscious, she touched the scabbed cut from Fish’s sword. “Basically healed. Argive confirmed that neither will scar.” It had been a blessing, really. A facial mark would have ruined her career in the espionage field. The cut on her thigh had healed nicely as well, and was hardly noticeable unless one ran a hand over the flesh and felt the raised portions of the scab that remained. The worst part had been the bruising for her, but, even those had faded away in the weeks it had been since the mission.

They spoke a bit longer, discussing a few other things before Velimir eventually excused himself. Kamari bid him goodbye, and shut the door softly once he’d made it a little ways down the path that lead to the homestead. She turned, pausing by the dining table as she rummaged through the basket. She picked out the items she wouldn’t immediately need and left them on the table to be sorted and dealt with later. Padding softly, she ventured further into the home until she came to Krios’ room and nudged the cracked door open with her shoulder.

“That was Velimir,” she announced as she entered the room, “He says ‘hello,’ by the way.” She turned, closing the door behind her. It was, perhaps, unnecessary when they were the only two Luperci in the house, but, it made her feel more secure to have the extra barrier. As well, it added a bit of privacy that prevented a curious cat—or kittens—from wandering in. “He brought you some new bandages and some more medicine, so, I won’t have to make the trip out to the Clinic later,” she continued as she turned around.

Kamari Kaiser
— The Shadow —
[Image: k4f73A1.png]
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Avatar art by Alaine · Sig art by Despi
• • •
It had been over two weeks since he had faced off against an opponent he had no business facing on his own. It had been over two weeks of him laying about in pain and thinking about the ways that he could have done better in that fight and what he ought to have done differently. He was getting twitchy and restless; he could walk about and do things plenty well from the chest down. Everything got trickier the more of his upper body was needed to do things. He never realized how much relied on his back and shoulders for everything he did, but it was a grim truth he had suffered through for half a month plus some days.

And it wasn't even done healing. The wounds to his back and shoulder were not fully healed and the reality was that he could easily ruin any healing he had done by going beyond his capacity at that moment. He was overly cautious, too, since he relied so much on his upper body to pull his bow string.

How he hated everything. Krios couldn't overexert himself, couldn't draw a bow, couldn't do too demanding a task with his hands, and the only thing he could do with great ease was walk. It was horrible and unfair and he really wished he had tasked Brocade with taking on the broad sentry with an axe. An axe! He should have known he had been mismatched as the archer. His bow was useless at close quarters and he had dithered on murdering a man.

Medics' orders were to stay calm, relax, and let nature run its course. But the medics were also not burdened with a wife and an overactive libido, but that was also considered rigorous activity. There was only so much he could do on bedrest.

He listened to the faint conversation at the door to their home, not even bothering to strain to hear what was being said. Belle had been dozing on his window ledge with her eyes shut, but her moving tail betrayed her conscious state. The cats had been lingering near him more than ever, which the luxuriously haired feline explained as being a precaution. Antoinette had merely looked at him pointedly without saying a word – and he was pretty sure she knew high speech.

Suddenly, the queen leaped off the sill and silently glided across his floor and out the slightly cracked door. She turned in the direction opposite where Kamari's footsteps came from, which suggested she relieved herself of "grown man babysitting duty". He should have protested being treated like a child but he also knew that he absolutely would have done something stupid to have warranted the babysitting anyway.

Kamari appeared shortly after Belle left and the Striker instantly perked up while setting down the book he was rereading for the umpteenth time. "Oh, did he mention how Seduction and the filly are doing?" he asked. Of course, he knew, since he could at least walk to their stables and see how things were going even if he was unable to actually do anything with the equines.

Krios laid a hand on the old, worn out book and watched his wife move. "Bandages? Did you want to cover my face up again?" he joked, knowing that he certain had the danger of opening up his back wound more than anything else. His neck still needed some tending and the surface of his stab wound was closed over, but his back had been more challenging.

“He thinks we should speak with Grievous about starting the filly with some formal saddle training,” she said as she made her way over to him. Seduction and Cedar’s foal was not old enough to be ridden yet, but, the earlier they started, the better it would be when she got older and larger and more dangerous.

The mention of mares and young horses reminded her of another topic she and her old mentor had discussed. “That reminds me, he, Grievous, and Cole think that Sandstone will be foaling in only a few months now, and Velimir asked if he could start introducing her to our group more?” It would be safer for Sandstone to have her foal in their paddock rather than where she was usually kept near Velimir’s home in Millstone Village. Kamari didn’t think Krios would oppose the idea, but, felt it was right to ask his opinion all the same. Cedar was the only breeding male they had in their pasture, and he was well acquainted with Sandstone even before they’d been bred. Walnut was familiar with the other mare as well, and had never been a problem animal to begin with. The only obstacle would be to ensure that Seduction got along with Sandstone and accepted her into their little herd.

She set down the basket of goods onto the floor before lowering herself down beside him. Her legs tucked out to the side as she leaned more onto one hip. One hand rested on his thigh for balance as she reached over to gather the rolls of clean bandages one by one in her small hands. The Shadow gave her husband a considering, side-eyed look as she ferried rolls over onto his bed, piling them on and around his lap. “You seem to be more compliant when you can see out both eyes rather than one,” she pointed out dryly. He could read, do small crafts, and look around without having to turn his neck too much when his left eye wasn’t covered.

Her gaze roved over the pink, crisscrossing wounds that had nearly claimed one of his seafoam blue eyes. The shortness of his fur and the depth of the cut meant that they were a new, permanent fixture to his face. It—and his other injuries—saddened her, and made her feel guilty for asking him to join her on the mission. He was no less handsome, even banged up as he was, but, the facial mark meant that she could no longer have him accompany her on her covert missions unless he was only to play the role of a stealthy marksman from afar. That was not to mention the scare that she’d had at the thought that she might have lost Krios, especially so soon after finally acknowledging her feelings for him.

Once the final roll of bandages was transferred over and the wooden jar of salve was placed between his legs—and she teasingly let her fingers “accidentally” graze over his inner thigh as she pulled her hand away—to ensure it wouldn’t tip over, the basket was left empty and was ready to be filled with the soiled bandages. Maintaining her casual demeanor, she tugged at the hem of his shirt. “Take this off.”

Kamari Kaiser
— The Shadow —
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Avatar art by Alaine · Sig art by Despi
• • •
He was not an expert on horses and he was far below Kamari in terms of skill with them. His grandmother's mare had seemed to be a finicky, easily spooked creature but despite that, Seduction seemed to be a much calmer creature than expected. She had been ridden into war before, he had been told, and even then he marveled at how calm she was. Maybe it was just because Krios himself never went into the fray mounted on a horse with sword in hand.

"Probably smart to put them in our pasture. They're the experts about this so I'll trust them," he added with a shrug that made his shoulder twinge unexpectedly. Krios made a face he was certain he made often since his wounds were tended following the events of the raid. "Seduction shouldn't be an issue if that's the concern. Every time I worry about her personality, she never fails to prove me wrong." He didn't know if she was a dominant sort of mare when it came to other mares, especially when their little herd consisted of a stallion and mule. She certainly never minded the chickens that clucked about.

Kamari started stacking rolls of gauze beside him. He narrowed his eyes at her and pursed his lips. Was she going to try to burry him in them? He didn't need so many all at once and at his side. She certainly seemed to enjoy fussing over him rather than their usual norm of him fussing over her. Was that a sadistic glint in her eye or was he just imagining it?

He could be sadistic, too.

"I need both eyes to look at you. Twice the pretty sight of my wife," he cooed at her, coyly. He nearly reached out for her, too, before he remembered her quick rebuffs since his injury. He quite doubted that she would be keen to let him do literally anything to her. It made him sad. Very sad. Super sad. Petulant child. Thinking that way kept him from digging too deeply into the darker thoughts that began to plague him the moment his recovery was well under way. Those thoughts were grim and broken, which he had no room for at that moment. He could address them when he had better ways of venting his frustration other than aggressively turning pages.

Krios pouted as she teased him, knowing that she knew what lingered in his mind whenever she touched him a half second too long. She could have slapped him in anger and he would have been upset she wasn't in his lap. The universe was far too cruel to him to have ripped away something so wonderful after making him work for it for years. He must have been the worst person ever in another life to deserve such treatment from fate.

The Striker leaned in as she tugged at the hem of his shirt. "How can you ask me to do that? I'm the poor, pitiful patient here who shouldn't be lifting his arms so high. And you won't let me stay naked all the time." Krios sighed dramatically as he lifted his arms up ever so slightly. "You're wasted as a Vedetto, you torturer," he griped as he wiggled his fingers expectantly.

She nodded at his thoughts, trying to ignore the brief expression of pain that etched across his face when he shrugged. She had seen it quite a bit, that look, and it did little good to dwell on it or point it out unless Krios was being stupidly stubborn about something. “I’ll let him know the next time I see him.” It would probably be a nice change of pace for the palomino mare, to have another female around that was of the same species as she. Sandstone would have been able to enjoy a bit more social interaction as well.

His attempt at romancing her made her scoff and look away from him. “Whatever,” she said dismissively, quietly embarrassed at the thought of being called “pretty.” “Just don’t blame me when you inevitably get yourself worked up,” she continued with her flat tone. Even so, the edge of her lip curled upward in a ghost of a smirk.

There was a small humor—on her part—to be had with the timing of the romantic shift to their relationship. Two weeks after she’d finally opened herself up to him, and universe had apparently decided to put Krios in such a state that he could not explore and appreciate what he’d longed for for years. For a male, she imagined it must have been a cruel torture. For Kamari though, she had found that there was a certain amount of fun to be taken advantage of now that her husband was no longer bleeding all over the place or in danger of dying.

She had always loved teasing him, after all.

While her face betrayed nothing, her eyes gleamed with victory at the sight of his pouting lips. “I could cut your shirt away if you wish,” she offered as she leaned in. Her hands worked to help him pull off his shirt, careful to make sure that the fabric didn’t accidentally catch somewhere and accidentally jar his deeper wounds. As she pulled the article of clothing free of his head, she snuck in a kiss onto his lips. “But I think that would excite you too much,” she whispered huskily, nipping playfully at him, “And, besides, maybe I like the show?”

Kamari nonchalantly pulled away, turning the shirt so that it was right-side-out and folding it neatly as she put it aside. “I don’t need a title to torture you,” she concluded, smirking. She meant it both playfully and seriously. While she may have been new to things between them, Krios—like she figured most men were—was relatively easy to unravel, and she had done the work of an Interrogante and Enforcer for years now.

She scooted a little closer to him and let her deft fingers gently work at undoing the knot that secured his chest and shoulder bandages to him. “Lean forward a bit more,” she instructed as the knot came free.

Kamari Kaiser
— The Shadow —
[Image: k4f73A1.png]
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Avatar art by Alaine · Sig art by Despi
• • •
It was alarmingly inevitable that he would get worked up because of her. How it came about was not necessarily a matter of importance when it was simply guaranteed to happen. She could have been bending over a second too long, stretching at all, breathing, living, existing. It was all just going to happen because she had let the monster loose and it refused to go back into its cage.

"I'll just have to make sure that you get just as worked up in kind," he threatened – promised? – as she smirked at him.

His prickly wife seemed keen to keep up appearances that she was not so easily weakened at the knees. He had watched her writhe beneath his ministrations and knew that she was just not ready to flaunt that reality. It made him so, so mad that he was in no state to repeat the same performance that had undone her the first time. She was so terribly lucky.

Kamari removed his shirt for him, though he could have done it himself if she had refused to baby him. Nearly three weeks in, he could have done it if he took it gingerly enough. Yet, when would he ever get the chance to have her coddle him again? 

He flicked his tongue out at her after her teasing, barely missing her lips considering his hesitation to jerk forward sharply. "Cruel brat," he mumbled as he watched her fold his shirt out of the corner of his eyes.

Obediently, he leaned forward to let her undue the knot that secured the bandages around his chest. There was less and less red on the bandages each time they were uncoiled from his body. There would have been no red if he had simply been a good patient and did not end up pulling at the cut on his back unevenly. His shoulder had closed pink already, but his body stretched too much against his will.

"Is it because I'm not pretty anymore?" he said softly, looking demurely downward, even though he continued to peer at her from beneath his half-shut eyes.

“In your dreams, perhaps,” she deflected, pointedly ignoring his smirk. She had avoided temptation for years to the point that, unlike him, she could appreciate what she saw without getting hot and bothered by it. And, given his injuries and her desire to have him recover as close to one-hundred percent as he could, it would be a few weeks more before she let him get too handsy with her. If he hadn’t realized it already, sex was officially off the table until his injuries were properly scarred with no risk of breaking open.

His health and ability to still perform as the Shield’s Striker mattered more to her than personal wants or desires.

Krios did as she bid him to, and, slowly and gently, she unraveled the bandage from his chest. She leaned in close to him so that she could seamlessly pass the cloth back and forth as it wound around his broad chest and shoulders. As she gathered more and more of the material, her cornflower blue eyes remained focused on the two places where she knew his injuries to be. The bandages were less spotted this time around, which was a good sign. It meant that the sutured cuts from the dog’s axe had been mending as they were supposed to.

Focused on her task at hand, she had nearly missed her husband’s soft voice. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “That is the most highborn thing I’ve heard out of you in a long time,” she said with a frown as she unraveled the last of the bandage from his chest. She tried not to tug, taking care to gently peel away the parts that stuck to the wounds. “Remind me to make you sit outside tomorrow if the weather’s nice,” she mumbled as she tossed the soiled bandages into the basket.

She placed a hand on his shoulder while the other carefully ghosted over the swollen, angry flesh around the wound site as she inspected the stab wound first for any concerning signs. She wasn’t a healer, but, after a few weeks of changing out his bandages, she’d come to know what his wounds were supposed to look like and what would have been something to call Argive or Eden for.

“These scars mean you were able to come back to me,” she whispered as she ran her hand down his arm and held it up so that she could inspect the wound that wrapped across his ribs and to his back. “Besides, I’m pretty sure I remember a boy who thought scars were awesome and cool once upon a time.”

It didn’t matter how he looked. Surely, he knew she was not that shallow when she sported scars of her own, and her father was covered in them.

Kamari Kaiser
— The Shadow —
[Image: k4f73A1.png]
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Avatar art by Alaine · Sig art by Despi
• • •
Krios pouted. "It's not a highborn thing," he insisted petulantly, nearly whining. "It's a beautiful person thing," he corrected quickly, looking so incredibly put out by her declaration. A highborn thing? He had seen lowborn peacocks more vain and thrice as frustratingly narcissistic. Admittedly, he did take some offense to the suggestion he needed to be carted about anywhere, like a goddamn potted houseplant being shoved into sunbeams.

"My legs work fine, you know," he mumbled to himself, knowing that any argument he made to her was going to be shot down. He was injured. He was incapable. He needed time. He had to be careful. Was everyone else's wife so frustrating? "I go outside pretty often, all by myself and everything." He was starting to feel salty bitterness seep into his tone as he spoke, surprising even him with the resentment lurking underneath.

Of course he resented being stuck with his injuries. Krios had effectively disgraced himself with his poor performance fighting the axe-wielding Outsider. No one had come to give him shit yet at that point, but the moment he would start his slow reentry into exercises they would come to mock him. He knew they would. Well, at least Brocade would come to laugh and jest and Idrieus would probably think he was a massive idiot who should practice more.

Yes, yes he should practice more. Yes, he should have been doing more like Kamari had with everyone else. No, he shouldn't have been focusing on hunting and trying to trade things for his wife because he was a moron. At least he hadn't swung the dragonhead bow around like a club.

Krios was silent as he let her lift his arm up, ignoring the tight feeling as the skin pulled. It would be a while yet before anything felt normal and Kamari certainly didn't look concerned over the injuries.

"I also distinctly remember having other dumb ideas at the time so I wouldn't take what I said then seriously." Krios reached up to touch the light line of sensitive tissue on his face. "Plus it wasn't on my face," he added sharply.

His mood was swinging downward. Krios could feel it sinking like a stone and tried to stop it.

He groaned loudly and leaned all his weight toward his wife. "I used to be so pretty! Now how am I going to flirt with all the traders and get better deals? How am I going to buy you nice things if they think I'm hideouuuuuus," he drawled, whining, trying to fight off the feeling of being useless.

She let out a sharp snort and rolled her eyes at his correction. As if that helped him any. He worried that his new scars would detract from his beauty, and, here, Kamari worried about it making her identifiable. It reminded her of when they’d been younger, when he’d spent more time taking care to dress in finer clothes at pack gatherings. His primping had toned down in recent years, though, it was clear that physical marks on his person had been another matter.

His bitter tone to her careless joke caused her eyes to sharpen as they snapped to him. “I know they work. Your head was what was damaged,” she grunted blithely. That and your ego.

Kamari knew perfectly well that he was capable of walking around on his own. His injuries had all been centered on his upper torso, after all. He could still move his arms too, even if the range of his motions were somewhat limited to prevent from stretching the tight flesh as it healed. Even with this promising recovery, he was restricted to simple, light work all the same. She knew the drill. She’d dealt with it too. It sucked, it was boring, it was frustrating, but, it was all necessary if he wanted to ensure he had the same range of motion post-recovery as he did before the assault mission.

Krios’ side injury looked well enough, and she leaned back and away from him, grabbing the jar of salve from between his legs and pulling off the lid. She dipped two fingers into the substance before she gently began to dab it across the axe wound on his side. “You’re such a drama queen,” she sighed under her breath as she focused on taking care of her husband’s injuries. Mentally, she went through the calming breathing exercises Velimir had taught her when she’d been young. She didn’t want to get into an argument with Krios, particularly not when she was tending to him. She was trying to get better about losing her temper, particularly since, in that moment, it wouldn’t have done them any good if she missed a step or didn’t wrap his bandages correctly.

He leaned against her suddenly, and Kamari nearly dropped the jar as she was forced to brace herself with her hands. Not amused with his behavior, she scowled and her ears pinned tightly against her hair. “Facial scars don’t seem to hurt Brocade’s success any. Some people like a good scar story,” she grumbled irritably, “And most women are drawn to a ruggedly handsome looking male.”

Setting the jar down, she pushed against him in an attempt to make him sit back up properly so that she could finish tending to the scar on his side. “If you’re feeling playful, at least wait until I get your bandages changed first. You’re making this difficult, Krios.”

Kamari Kaiser
— The Shadow —
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• • •
Krios could tell that Kamari was reaching the end of a fraying rope. Her ears were pinning back and she had that determined look on her face that suggested she was doing her very best to be calm. No, he wasn't helping. No, he wasn't really trying very hard to be helpful. He wasn't flailing or screaming or trying to push her away, but he was not really doing much to make it easy. He was being a child, he knew, and he was struggling to stop behaving that way.

He was just so sick of it. She had dealt with the same before, and he had, too. He had injured his arm and had been forced to deal with it for the weeks it took to heal properly. He was more severely injured in that moment, sure, and he had to just get over it. But it was just so hard! So challenging.

He was being too much of a pain for his wife. Krios could feel how much it had affected her to tend to him and worry and also have to deal with his piss poor attitude. He had to try harder to manage. He swallowed his commentary and let it digest away in his belly rather than drip from his tongue. He had to try. He had to try.

Kamari wasn't at all amused by his attempts to lighten the situation. He straightened himself with a long sigh and allowed her to dab the medicinal ointment on his wound without a single sound of protest other than wistful sighs.

"Do you like the scars? Am I more handsome for you?" he asked, breaking the silence he had imposed upon himself. Despite it all, he looked like he was feeling better and eagerly waited for her ministrations to end. "And if I am feeling playful? Will you let me be be playful? There's plenty I can manage even like this," he offered, very nearly wagging his tail as he lifted his arm to make it easier for her to wrap the bandage around.

He either seemed to realize how ridiculous he was being or he got the hint that she was unamused with his antics. He straightened, growing quiet as she retrieved the jar once more and finished applying the salve to his chest wound. As she worked, methodically dabbing and smoothing the healing ointment like Argive had shown her weeks earlier, she couldn’t help but to wonder if she might have spoken a little too harshly to him. Her thoughts reviewed her own words, though, found little that might have offended him into a depressive silence.

His silence persisted even as she moved onto the stab wound, and it wasn’t until she’d put the jar aside and reached for one of the rolls of cloth that he spoke again. His opening question had her blinking and her looking quietly away from him. “…I don’t like the reason why you have them, no,” she answered truthfully, softly, “Just as I’m sure that you don’t like the reason for why I have mine.”

She was the cause for them, after all. If she hadn’t asked Krios to accompany her on the mission, he wouldn’t have had them or given her the scare that he had on that night. She didn’t particularly care for the reminder of her own mistake. If it hadn’t been Krios though, then who? If not one of the men she’d asked to accompany her on the mission, would she have been satisfied with another, lesser experienced Salsolan’s death instead? The guilt had eaten at her in the days that had immediately followed the mission’s success.

She closed her eyes and took a breath, letting it out slow. Opening her eyes again, Kamari leaned into him once more as she focused her hands on bandaging his torso back up. “With or without the scars though, you’ll always be handsome to me.” She placed a kiss on his collarbone as she made a few passes over his shoulder and across his chest.

As for him feeling playful…he definitely had inappropriate things on the mind rather than innocent ones. Of course. Typical man. “And, I suppose that depends…are you feeling playful?” she challenged in a hum, smirking at him. She already knew the answer, just as she hoped that he knew good well that they were not about to have sex while his deeper wounds still had the likely possibility to split open still.

She continued to wrap his chest and shoulder until there was a good enough cushion between the wounds and the world to allow them to heal without being bothered. She tied a loose knot to keep it secure, letting her eyes drop to examine her work before nodding with approval.

Kamari glanced back at his lap then, casually brushing away the various spools she’d piled onto him, stroking a little heavier, a little longer than, perhaps, necessary. She shifted then, throwing a leg over him and straddling him as she gently pulled him by the shoulders so that she could work on the soiled bandage that wrapped around his neck.

The Shadow knew exactly what she was doing.

Weeks ago, she might have been a sputtering, embarrassed mess at her bold actions. She’d won her confidence back bit by bit though, and she had always been a fast learner. The territory might have still been new, but, she was little more comfortable with the layout and workings of things now.

She maintained her nonchalant mask as her deft fingers worked on the knot of his neck bandage. “Your wounds seem to be healing nicely,” she remarked as the knot came undone and she went about unraveling the cloth from his neck. “How long do you think Argive will give you until you don’t have to wear these anymore?”

Kamari Kaiser
— The Shadow —
[Image: k4f73A1.png]
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Avatar art by Alaine · Sig art by Despi
• • •
Injuries were inevitable in their line of work. They chose to become warriors and fighters and killers. The payment for their actions would always be Newtonian: for every action there was an equal and opposite reaction. They were fortunate their actions didn't result in their immediate deaths half the time. Injury, pain, suffering were the consequences of fighting. Krios accepted it the moment he became a Milite. Being the Striker had limited his chance of getting hurt in any great capacity, but it had not completely nullified the risk.

Kamari seemed to be suffering in her own way over his injuries. She had been hurt herself, but not to the same capacity as he had. She had not been bedridden like he had initially, but she suffered plenty of other things both in the past and while he recovered. Krios couldn't pretend he had no idea she felt guilty over his injuries, but he found himself unable to try to protest her guilt.

He had been so mad and so guilty over what his aunt had done and that had merely been because of their relation rather than anything he had deliberately done. His whining and complaining probably didn't help matters much. Kamari was not immune to it; she was not made of stone, after all.

They were both trying not to pick a fight, succeeding in such small ways. Obviously, it was wearing on them both, but he was not permanently disabled. He was not an invalid that would forever be tied to his spouse for care over his mistakes. He would recover. He ought to have been grateful; not everyone was remotely as fortunate.

Krios still complained anyway.

"Guess you'll need to find a new scouting partner," he added with a chuckle. He enjoyed going on scouting trips with her, but it was no longer possible to go on them all. With such well-defining scars, he would stand out more than the generic – if still very handsome – man he had been weeks prior. Apollo could no longer pass for anyone else other than Apollo.

At least discussing his filthy mind was a safer subject that they could both snicker over. "You ask that like you don't know." He raised a brow at her ever so slightly as his eyes swallowed her. His wife was deliberately impish, the worst sort of tease for a man like him to deal with. Had she no kindness in her heart at all? Did she mean to torment him so fully? She grazed and lingered overlong more than once in the simple process of gathering up the bandages.

He had to clench his jaw to stop the shockingly inappropriate suggestion of what else she could gather up. The twinge in his neck from the bandage rubbing the raw neck scabbing helped to alleviate any errant blood flow from his brain to other, stupider places.

"I hope not too long. I'm sure once they're totally closed up all the way he'll clear me." It would still be light duty until he had the same strength as he had before. Oddly, he felt like his recovery was much better than any time he had been injured during the height of his dependence on drink. Maybe it was a good thing after all.

Krios stuck out his tongue and slyly tried to reach out to slip a hand on Kamari's waist. "Don't tell me you're looking forward to me being able to indecently bother you again," he teased, waggling his brows.

You have unleashed a terrible creature, Krios.
“For some things, perhaps,” she hummed dismissively, though, with a soft smile to keep the mood up. It was true, he would not be able to closely accompany her on her more delicate, covert operations. The new scars that would mar his face would make him too easily identifiable. Even still though, like O’Riley often did, he could cover her from afar if nothing else. He may have been marked, but, he could—hopefully—still shoot an arrow better than most Luperci that she knew, and his tracking skills rivaled her own.

She laughed at his reply to her coy question. “If you’re good for the rest of this, maybe I’ll be open to a bit of negotiation once I’m finished,” she offered temptingly. There was still quite a bit that was strictly off the bargaining table, but, she could be a merciful Shadow when she wanted to be. His selection for bartering would be severely limited, but, it would have to be enough to tide him over until the healers lifted his restrictions.

As the soiled cloth pulled away, it revealed crusted blood that had leaked from his scabbing neck wound. She gently parted his neck fur to inspect the cut made by a knife. Krios had been lucky with this particular injury. A little deeper, and there would have been no saving him. A stab instead of a slice, and he would have been ended just as quickly as Fish had been by her own hand.

He was lucky all around though. His injuries, their placement, and her knowledge and experience in killing other Luperci, she had reflected over it all for hours after he’d been brought back home. A slightly different angle of the blade, and Krios might have lost his left eye. A little more force with the slash, and the artery in Krios’ neck would have been cut open. A little bit lower, and the stab wound to his left shoulder could have pierced his heart. Had the axe struck him lower in his side rather than across his ribcage, Krios could have been disemboweled.

She had been terribly lucky to not have lost him that night.

Kamari used a clean portion of the bandage to dab at the bit of blood and clean the wound site some. She was sure to be tender and gentle, knowing it’d be sensitive. Distracted—or, perhaps, just focused on the task at hand—she didn’t notice Krios’ wayward hand until she felt the weight of it against her hip. She blinked as she pulled back and let her eyes shift to him, only to be met with a handsomely suggestive expression from her husband.

A soft scoff escaped her lips as she casually—and unnecessarily—shifted her weight against him to toss the dirty bandage into the basket with the others. “And give you that satisfaction? No, I don’t think I will tell you,” she replied primly.

She shifted her weight again to retrieve the jar, dipping her fingers into the salve before readjusting herself so that she could apply it to his wound. Why would I tell my poor, injured husband on strict medical orders that I can’t wait to feel his hands ghost over my skin?” Her whispered words were as sarcastic as they were teasing. “Or feel his teeth and lips nip and kiss me all over?” She put the jar aside, leaning against him as she retrieved a new set of bandages. “Or have me pinned beneath him as he ravages me until I’m left choking down moans of pleasure?”

Kamari looped the cloth around his neck, making sure to not apply it too tightly that it would cause him discomfort, or, too loosely that it failed to perform its intended purpose. As she finally knotted the end of it, she leaned back and narrowed her eyes on her husband with a cocky, flirtatious gleam to them. Her deft fingers slid down his bandaged chest. Why would I tell my husband that, hmm?” She asked, her voice returning to its normal level rather than the heated whisper it had been just moments before.

Kamari Kaiser
— The Shadow —
[Image: k4f73A1.png]
Player Wiki · Character Wiki

Avatar art by Alaine · Sig art by Despi
He super dooper regrets it, yeah.  Super Totally.
• • •
Negotiation? That was not a downright no from her, even if it did strongly suggest that she was not going to be generous. Krios could attempt to cross verbal swords with her if the outcome was going to be an hour of distraction. It would entertain them both to banter and then also likely soothe their moods with whatever Kamari permitted afterward. If she would even permit anything in the first place, at least.

She flung the dirty bandage into the pile with the rest and reached for the ever present medicinal balm that clouded his sense of smell. He could only smell the herbs as she dabbed it onto his neck with the precision of practice. Soon enough, she would not need to dig her hands into that jar to slather it on his injuries. Soon enough, she wouldn't have to slip into his room with fresh bandages or whatever else that needed to be handled for her husband in healing. He looked forward to that moment quite a bit, even if it wasn't a true delight to have Kamari putting her hands on him; he just wished that they were in less professional ways and with much more ulterior motives.

Of course, Krios was never allowed to truly underestimate his wife. He nearly choked on his own tongue as she sarcastically whispered at him, eyes widening as he stared straight ahead. His arms straightened and firmly secured the furs over himself as her words rattled through his bones.

What a witch. What a monster. What a demon. She was so cruel and so wildly excessive that his jaw started to ache with how tightly he clenched it together.

The bandage was secured in a snug knot and she leaned against him, fingers touching his chest. His hand squeezed where it held on to her hip and cleared his throat gruffly. "And here I thought you wanted to negotiate. Maybe you should negotiate on a kinder sentence for saying such a thing to your poor, ailing, pent up husband," he murmured at her as he ran his fingers up an arm and raised his unmarred brow.
Thanks for the fun thread<333
It amused her greatly to see his reactions to her words. She felt his muscles stiffen beneath her. She saw the focused stare of his eyes, though, his vision was, perhaps, more preoccupied with whatever images his mind conjured up of him and her rather than on anything actually within his line of sight. For the first time, she had the upper hand in this part of their relationship. There was a small pride to be had at such a notion of control over him, and, mentally, she gathered her observations and filed them away for future use.

His hand on her hip tightened, and it was clear to her that he had had to refocus his thoughts as he cleared his throat. His soft words spoken afterwards only confirmed that she’d derailed him. Good. After what he’d reduced her to on that night in the hunter’s cabin, he deserved to be thoroughly teased and bothered.

She hummed as he ran his other hand up her arm, and she gently pushed him back and down against his bedfurs. Her hands moved up to carefully hold his face, not wanting to hurt him by accidentally touching his face wounds. “I kind of like this though,” she whispered huskily to him as she placed a slow kiss against his lips. “I don’t have to worry about being left completely undone by you right now.” She kissed him a second time, this one hungrier than the first. “Besides, maybe this’ll give you more incentive to let your injuries heal quicker so you can access to everything, hmm?” She pulled away, smirking down at him before she removed herself from being atop her husband and gathered up the unused rolls still scattered about his bed.

Kamari replaced them on his desk before moving to retrieve the basket filled with the soiled bandages. Placing it on her hip, her coy gaze found Krios. “Think about what you want to barter for when I get back from cleaning these.” She winked at him before turning and heading out of his room with an impish smile spread widely across her lips.

Kamari Kaiser
— The Shadow —
[Image: k4f73A1.png]
Player Wiki · Character Wiki

Avatar art by Alaine · Sig art by Despi

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