Kyran jumped when the healer came by, having been staring off into space. His stomach was better, but he still felt shook up. It was like his mind and body had only just registered what had happened now that it was over and everything decided to come crashing down on him now, when he had time to actually think. He hadn't felt sick when he'd first found Lune all mauled, but now the memory of it had him shivering. Better now than then, though. If he'd seized up then, they'd still be stuck out in the woods.
"Oh...thanks," Kyran said, exhaling through his teeth and turning to go back inside. No open wounds. Thank goodness. Despite that, he didn't think he'd be up to the lunch just yet. "Thanks for fixing him. I, uh...you'll be wanting payment, huh?" Even healers had to make a living somehow, and you couldn't fill your stomach on kindness alone. Shit. He was fresh out of money, having been robbed a few days back, but he'd figure something out.
He was a half-incubus. He had ways of scrounging up some coin fast.
Once inside, Kyran settled down onto the floor beside Lune's cot, quietly so as not to wake him, and then looked his friend over. He was clean, all the blood gone, with injuries that looked weeks old even though they were hours fresh--it was the total reverse of Kyran, who healed like a human but didn't scar at all. Blind, huh? Yeah, he could see that, and wondered if Lune had any eyes under those lids--and then shuddered and promptly switched trains of thought and tried not to remember the weird liquid he had seen mixed with the blood and--his stomach clenched, and he swallowed hard.
Thank goodness he had nothing left in his stomach.
Taking a deep breath and clearing his mind, he stretched out on his belly beside Lune's cot and rested his chin on his arms, looking over Lune's scars. They were fascinating when he didn't think of what they looked like open and when he didn't remember that Lune was blind, but they weren't revolting. Not to him, at least. Blind. Damn. For how long? Forever? He couldn't even imagine that, living life with your eyes closed...and he'd need someone to help him, the healer said...
He closed his eyes, all the stress catching up to him in the form of fatigue and making him feel all heavy. The healer hadn't put down bedding for him yet and the floor was uncomfortable--probably filthy, too...--but right then he couldn't force himself to care enough except to make sure he kept his face off the floor.
"I'm here now, pup..." he murmured, not wanting to wake him but, hey, the words might still reach him, wherever it was he'd gone.