Word Count ::
The soft humming and singing of the woman was somehow comforting to his deluded soul. He pressed further into the ground and dir, body tensing a little in places, his face wincing, but all in all feeling better now his wounds were starting to be clean. As she thought he would tend to them after the brute work had been done in bulk. Graciously his tail wagged when she spoke words of wisdom and his ears perked up. He would remember the knowing words for as long as he could. Grateful as ever a slight smile - just a slight one - came upon him and ever so gently he lifted himself upwards, sliding not against anything but propping himself up all the same with what strength he could muster. The signal for the question made him close his eyes slightly to think, to be silent, until he brought up the will to speak through his numb state. Thanks…I…I just need rest from ‘ere. gently he took his cloak from around him and fixed it not round his neck but round his body, tying it like a sort of toga almost. It covered the wounds all the same, so they would not get dirty for a while. It was the best he could do to dress them, pulling the fabric tight.
Apart from wounds on his back there were just bruises. He was especially winded from being struck in the stomach with the staff; but it was nothing sleep wouldn’t wear off. His eyes locked onto X’yrin’s and they never left the gaze, cautious as he slipped further beneath the roots so he was fully sheltered from any weather that might manage to fall. Ever so slowly the man bent down again from his sitting up position, and managed to lie on his side, eyes still watching X’yrin intently. Don’t leave me, lemony snick‘. was his last selfish request before his pleading eyes shut firmly, and he fell victim to a troubled sleep.
Image courtesy of Scott Hudson **; Table by the Mentors!
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