It's just a little tumble. It's still good. [m]

[Draconian]

[ @nephero  ]
    There was no way this wasn't what dying felt like. Avalaton felt the ropes at his wrists, rubbing the flesh raw. Breathing too deep made his ribs hurt. His tongue was swollen from where he'd bitten it. The tight grip at his bicep to push him along on his own death march - because wherever he was being led was to some sort of death. Avalaton winced slightly when he felt a fat raindrop land on his head, ducking his head down before being jerked to the side. It was dawn now. The sun clawing it's way up, back lighting the dark angry clouds that were trying so hard to rain more consistently.

    "Stop slowing down!" The man behind him barked, pushing Avalaton roughly. A harsh forward momentum. It wasn't difficult for his balance to be pushed off and the good shove had him slam a shoulder into a tree with a grunt. Avalaton looked to his captor, then the few men around him. He was still a little dizzy. Everything didn't make sense yet. His eyes drifted closed for a moment and he felt the arm at his bicep again, squeezing harshly. Another soft hiss and he glared over his shoulder.

    "Stop looking at me like that. You keep your fuckin' bedroom eyes for when we get you down to Essyrn, eh?" The man jerked Avvy's arm again before shoving him along. "You're gonna catch us a nice pursefull of coin," The man purred into his ear, though Avalaton did his best to lean away. The day continued with Avalaton being led along, hurt, tired. Going through scenarios in his head on how to escape. From what he'd gathered he was the only one from his small group to be here. Which meant his team was either dead or left for dead. Maybe just wounded. Avalaton didn't ask. Didn't even know where he was - at least not really. He knew he was on the Thunderblacks but... It was no time to think of that. He just had to be safe. Get somewhere else. Anywhere else.

    They were breaking for food which meant there was finally the slightest chance of anything. He could die here in the forest. The land he was born in. Or let himself be dragged to... To Essyrn. It would be hard to run with his hands behind his back but... He could do it. It would be fine. Avalaton watched his main captor for a moment before he sprang to his knees, feet and then took off. Luckily, or unluckily, that's when the rain picked up. It began to pour. A flurry of movement, he glanced over his shoulder to see if he was being followed and sure enough, his captor was close behind.

    A second to turn back, but all he was met with was with a hot slice of pain.  A sharp gasp and Avalaton jerked to the side and fell to his knees. Rain pelted his face and all he heard was his own ears. Though, he could open one eye and see a pair of them fighting. The bloody knife in one hand. His head hurt like fuck. He couldn't open his eye. He knew his wrists were bleeding but... He had to get up. He had to get away while they were fighting. The only chance he had. Some of the words they were screaming sunk in past the fog of his brain. Ruining the merchandise.

    Had to go. Had to run. Avalaton sucked in a breath and rolled onto his knees before he got up and ran. Deep into the trees. The rain was pouring, all he could taste was blood. One last glance over his shoulder, the blonde hair of one of the attempted captors and then... Slippery leaves. With a sharp cry Avalaton's foot slipped and with no arms to catch himself, he went crashing down a steeper part of the path, down in the bushes. He felt leaves and branches catch whatever cut was on his face. Sticks and thorns slice and cut his flesh. The sound of ripping clothing.

    The world was still spinning even after he'd stopped moving. His hands were pinned under his back and his breath was knocked out of him and Avalaton lay half under a bush, the rain still falling down onto him. leaves and sticks in his messy hair. At least dying here would be better than dying in Essyrn as a pet.  A few attempts at deep breaths. The sound of footsteps almost made him cry but he kept it in, sucking a breath in shortly before the real pain set in and he finally overloaded and Avalaton's eye closed and he passed out, breath evening out after he'd finally fainted into blissful darkness.

[nephero]

   The rains were early this year. Up in the mountains during the summer, there was very little fear for weather, or even a need for it. But sometimes, the weather had other plans, and sometimes that meant the herds needed to move a bit earlier than usual, and sometimes that meant Kojo got the task of rushing off into the wilderness to clear the path for the main cattle run.

   It was hands-down his most favorite treat. Beyond anything else, he always hoped for early rains, because that meant days where he could ride out unbound, with only his partner and their horses and the necessary supplies of what they wouldn't be able to find on the trail. Even as the weather turned foul, even as the rain bellowed down upon them, and even as their horses huffed at having to navigate the treacherous mud of the highlands, Kojo wouldn't have traded it for the world.

   The only thing that was better than this was deep winter in the plains, when the world was wide and open and he could pick any direction to just run in.

   "Kojo, eyes on the road," came a call behind him, and Kojo did his best to avoid making a face as he looked back at Paja. From her returning expression, his attempts not to look petulant failed completely.

   "Not much a road to watch," he grumbled back, the sharp consonants of their shared language piercing even through the rain. It wasn't pretty, but it didn't have to be. It had to be useful, understandable across valleys and mountain ridges and sweeping plains both. It also had the handy trait of sounding constantly agitated, much like Kojo's present mood at still being stuck as high as they were.

   "You're down in the grasses already, and we've still got days ahead. Grandfathers grant you some damned patience," Paja growled back. Normally she'd cut some sharp remark and they'd both laugh their irritation off, but unlike Kojo, she had no patience for the rain. She shook droplets off of her head with a snarl, looking like a sullen, soggy cat for how she hunched over her horse.

   "Yeah, yeah, yeah." Kojo grumbled, waving one hand while the other gently led his horse along a barely discernible path, thick droplets of water splashing into his eyes and making the going all the slower. It was a mark of how in need of a rest they both were that they rode in silence for a time.

   Which was probably for the best, as it meant they could both pay more attention to their surroundings. Just enough to catch sight of something altogether foreign to the mountain wilds save in very specific circumstances. Fine cloth that had a vibrant hue despite the poor weather and splatters of mud, spotted with brambles and thorns and in a veritable heap at the base of a tree.

   Kojo looked over his shoulder, one massive hand raised, only to see Paja had already spotted the oddity, her own eyes fixed and ready as she reached for her hatchet. Kojo slid from his horse, the great beast huffing and stomping the ground at the sudden shift in atmosphere, ears pinned forward and on high alert. At the very least, Kojo would be assured his death would swiftly be avenged.

   He stepped forward after removing his own hatchet from his saddlebags, slowly stepping from the main path and down into the brush towards the lump. The path of the mud and broken branches said whatever this was, it took quite the nasty fall, and for a moment Kojo's stomach turned at the idea that he might pull the cloth back and get a face full of rot and maggots for his curiousity.

   A vivid gash was the first thing Kojo saw, and for a brief half a second he wanted to recoil. But in that brief half a second, he spied the rest of the poor soul's face, eyes shut unlike a corpse and still leaking blood in all the different scratches taken in the fall.

   But most telling of all was the puff of white air against the cool rain, sign enough that this human still lived. For the moment, anyway.

   "Paja!" he called up the slope, and could hear the rustle of immediate movement as the orcess launched from her own saddle, "Blankets!"

   "[i}For what?[/i]" came her reply after a moment's hesitation, but still, when she slid down the mud beside him, it was with a handful of cloth, still dry from the weatherproofed bags it'd been in. "The hell is that?"

   "Human."

   "I can see that, fool, I mean who is it?"

   "Dunno. Cut up to hell and back, I think she fell down the way there," Kojo gestured at the slickened gouge in the earth, just the right size for a body to toboggan down.

   "We should leave it. We've only got the supplies for us both, and we need to be able to make it back up to say the way's clear."

   "Look at her, she's not exactly going to eat the whole of our supply."

   "You share with her then, soft fool that you are. See you complain an inch of your empty belly and I'll throw you into the fire."

   "Shut up and find us a clearing to set up in. We're not getting far in this mess today."

   Paja shoved at his shoulder even as she stalked off, twigs and branches both snapping in her wake while Kojo set about checking the human for anything messier than her eye. Trusting that her limbs were precisely where they were meant to be, he lifted her up, stripping off the bright, soggy cloak that had drawn his initial intention and replacing it with the thick blanket that would do miles better against the rain.

   It wasn't much longer before all three of them were hunkered in the shelter of a cave, the horses all too happy to settle at the mouth where there was still some light, and Paja set to getting a fire started. And just in time, too, with how the winds and water both picked up in earnest, slamming against the rock walls of the cave to where the two orcs still had to shout a bit to be heard far apart as they were.

   In between setting up his own half of the camp for the evening, Kojo was busy in making the human comfortable, wiping away mud and picking twigs out of soggy hair, and hissing a bit at just how nasty the gash across her eye really was. It'd take some time to heal, even with the spare herbs he'd packed for the journey, and there'd be no saving it, but at the very least he could keep any infection from setting in.

   "Don't know why you're bothering," Paja said, her mouth pressed tight as she coaxed the fire into a sizable blaze.

   Kojo didn't answer her, well aware that this was a needless waste of supplies. Still. The thought of leaving the human out to freeze was worse.

[Draconian]

There was too much pain to be dead.

Avalaton gasped loudly when he came back to his senses. He had been sort of awake, aware that he'd been moved. Aware that things were moving, that he was moving. Distantly though. Everytime he moved too quickly or was moved, his face throbbed and he went back to some deep abyss that felt a lot like ... Floating. There was one thing that he was aware of on a distant level. He'd been found. Who ever had found him clearly wasn't human and the distant feeling of warmth meant he was going to be stew.  Please, any gods. Let him die before he was cooked.

He had no idea how long he'd been in and out for, but finally he managed to open his eye long enough to get an idea of what his surroundings looked like. A cave. It was storming outside. Avalaton slowly moved his hands, surprised to find that they weren't tired together anymore - they must have come loose in the fall. His wrists were rubbed raw, his fingertips touching dried blood on his skin and he felt warm.

Soggy. But warm. Uncomfortable. Alive.

The language the shadows spoke sounded harsh and Avalaton sucked in a startled breath after finally being coherent enough to understand anything. Not that he understood. The shadow looked somewhat distracted. Avalaton squirmed a hand from under the blanket to his face to gently touch where the pain was. His fingers pressed against sticky blood. The pain that radiated was a little more bearable since he was causing it but he trailed his fingers gently up his face before he moved his trembling hand away. His head tilted back and he fought off another wave of darkness, mind too starved of blood, his self too overloaded.

No. Maybe these were the ones that bought him? The slavers or whatever they were had found him and he'd been asleep this whole time and... And they sold their damaged human for food to some... Beasts?

There wasn't much strength left in him but he could fight one last time. Do something. The most he managed to do was sit up though, lift his arms and ball his hands into fists. Sweat beaded on his forehead for the effort and his lip trembled with exertion as surely as his hands did.

"I'm not letting you eat me without a fight," He panted, voice heavy and tired. Avalaton very slowly attempted to get onto his knees, managing one but instead of actually succeeding, he'd instead lost his balance, ending up on his hands and knees, panting heavily, elbows trembling, hair swinging down around his face in a mess of loose twiggy curls. "I don't want to die," he panted, lifting his head, his one good eye bright blue and his face tense with pain, "Please."

[nephero]

   "We're close to the plains, aren't we?" Paja said, after some time, distracting Kojo from watching the pretty human sleep.

   "Maybe a half day out." Kojo agreed, though his tone meant he felt he knew exactly what Paja was getting at. And he genuinely did not like it.

   "Close enough for the raiders to lose a catch. Close enough for the catch to try to run home."

   "And?"

   "Kojo," Paja huffed, annoyed but still trying to keep her tone even, though that was becoming more and more difficult with every second, "We have deals. We don't interfere, they don't interfere. They see us with one of theirs, it's going to cause problems."

   "And what if they don't see us with one of theirs? It's no problem, then, is it? I'm not just going to chuck her out into the rain because some devils might have a price tag on her."

   "You could at least think of your own people—"

   The words were getting heated, but neither of them had much chance to continue arguing, because in between the rising voices there was the soft ruffle of moving cloth, and both orcs turned to regard the human in their midst with wide, pale eyes. Not a bit unlike being caught gossiping about a third party by said third party.

   But, it was a rare human that understood their tongue, and as this one rose up onto his knees, stumbled, and very nearly fainted for her efforts, it was all too clear she hadn't understood a single word they'd been saying.

   Nor, it seemed, did she understand that orcs didn't really have a taste for human flesh.

   Paja snorted, wild and derisive, her temper not quelled in the slightest by the dark humor of possibly eating this tiny creature alive. Kojo glared at her over his shoulder, before turning back to the girl, hands up and palms out in the soft display of 'no harm' that had kept many skittish traders from turning and running down in the plains.

   "Easy, easy," he said, switching to the trader's tongue with only a little difficulty. It was hard, only getting practice half of the year, but after a moment he fell back into the swing of the much softer words. "We don't want to eat you."

   Kojo moved back towards the poor shaking girl, touching at her elbow to steady her and hopefully get her to lay back down before she took another tumble directly onto her face. The gash across her eye was already awful— it'd need serious mending, possibly more than what Kojo himself could provide with his scant supplies.

   Another rustle, and Paja was kneeling at her other side, a bit more insistent in getting the human to lay back down.

   "You'd be nothing but bone and chew, anyway," Paja agreed, gruffly but with none of the rising hostility from earlier. "We found you off the road. What were you doing running around in weather like this?"

   Considering the rope marks still present on the human's skin, it was easy enough to deduce what happened, but there was something to be said about getting the whole story. Or getting a whole lie, depending. Kojo's jaw tightened, but otherwise he didn't interrupt, instead going for the fire to get some food for the human as well as some warm water to clean her wounds with.

[Draconian]

The flicker of happiness that this person - creature? - spoke common almost made him melt. Avalaton's heart was thumping in his throat. He could feel each pulse of pain through his face, climb down into his skull. The warm hand at his elbow was a soothing balm on his chilled skin. Gooseflesh rose on all his skin at the difference in temperature and Avalaton leaned into it, his one good eye looking up at Kojo's face, eyeing the teeth but... Not going to be eaten. Thank any spirits and gods in the skies.

Avalaton sighed softly, eye closing before leaning closer to Kojo, glancing at Paja and finally letting himself be guided back down. Everything hurt. Sharp biting pain that made him wince and every wince made everything else hurt. He wasn't sure if his clothing was stuck to him because of blood or it was just still wet. He plucked at the neck of his shirt tiredly and slowly sunk back down into the blanket he'd been wrapped in. He listened to the question the slightly angrier orc asked and his eye rolled back in an effort to stay awake to answer.

"Ambushed," He whispered, reaching a hand up and out above, his hand illuminated by the fire. Still trembling, he clenched his hand into a fist but kept it raised up in an effort to force himself to stay awake. "took Four of us. Bandits killed half," Avalaton's eye welled up with tears, remembering briefly before he moved his hand to his face, thumb smearing the cut on his cheek. Snapping his hand away quickly with a hiss he looked towards the orc that had spoken first, the one that just sort of radiated kindness. It was odd to not feel terrified but maybe he was just numb to everything.

"My..." His eye closed briefly but it snapped open again, focusing on Kojo's face, "name is Avalaton. Adelan, soldier." What other information could he give Kojo to potentially share if he died? That seemed like enough information. A name. That he was a soldier. The pretty one with kind of curly wavy hair. Avalaton moved his hand, placing it on Kojo's arm and giving whatever warm flesh that was under his hand a weak squeeze.

"Thank you," his hand slid down and rested across his stomach, "I'm just going to ... Rest." and Avalaton was out again, breath coming in hot shallow puffs, chest rising oh so slowly.

[nephero]

   Ambushed. Adelan. Avalaton. Soldier. Bandits. Killed half and took four.

   Well, it was no secret why anyone would want to get away. To take down half a group of Adelan soldiers wasn't anything to sniff at, even on the best of days. It was half the reason why they were careful to keep from segments of mountains where the humans tended to settle, maintaining a thin truce in much the same way they did with the people of the plains.

   No interference, no repercussions. Until then, anyway.

   The girl-soldier wasn't long for the waking world, though, and almost as soon as Kojo opened his mouth to speak, her one remaining eye was closing, the grip on Kojo's arm slackening before falling away.

   For a moment, neither orc said anything, Kojo allowed to focus on treating the wounds he could without disturbing her rest too much. Eventually, Paja took a deep breath, sitting back on her ankles and mouth working from side to side in thought.

   "I know what you want to say," Kojo began, because he did. This was interfering. And the bandits in the south didn't care if it was just one tiny slave out of hundreds. A broken deal was a broken deal, and there was very little outside of those they much cared for. Who only knew where one of their own might end up? Far from the mountains, far from their winged ancestors, far from their clan...

   "She got out on her own," Paja said after a moment's consideration, rising up to take the bit of food Kojo had brought back to the girl's side. Chewing thoughtfully, Paja considered the cave wall, her pale eyes narrowed in thought. "It isn't as if your fool self strode down and cut her loose, yourself."

   In a bizarre turn of events, Kojo found himself in disbelief, chewing at the inside of his cheek as he shook his head.

   "You know well as I that won't matter to them."

   "Don't have to matter. They don't come up our ways. She can be brought back over the mountain north."

   "She can't be moved yet. And the season's are changing."

   "All that argument earlier, and now you're worried?" Paja snorted, her nose wrinkled in agitation. "Do you just enjoy being a troublemaker, or do you have anything made of stone in you?"

   "Says the one sweet on every pretty face comes through the mountains." Kojo bit back, though lightly, and took great pleasure in how Paja's first response was to punch him hard in the chest.

   "Ah, idiot. So we wait until she's ready to move. Go back up, get resupplied, get her home, maybe she swoons just a bit for her big, strapping hero."

   "That's not what I'm trying to do!" Kojo protested, face already darkening in a combination of embarrassment and horror.

   "I was talking about me." Paja said matter of factly, and she rose up to go back to the fire, leaving Kojo to wonder about what thought had been worse— the implication that he might be looking for swooning for playing hero, or the fact that he could genuinely imagine Paja doing just that.

   Shaking his head, Kojo finished bandaging the human girl up before very pointedly taking first watch near the mouth of the cave.

—

   The next day, of course, brought its own problems. There was still the fact that the orcs had a job to do. If winter was really coming early, they didn't have the time to sit and nurse a human back to health. The roads still needed to be checked and cleared, which meant that if they were really serious about getting the human back where she came from, it wasn't going to be as a duo.

   Which was precisely why Paja dragged over a small boulder, and the pair set down with the full intention of arm wrestling over the privilege of playing hero. The problem that they were finding, after best two out of three became four out of five became five out of seven, was that this wasn't exactly the quietest form of decision making.

   "You're!— the one!— who likes early rains!" Paja hissed, pushing Kojo's hand back a few inches only to have him bring their combined fists back to the middle.

   "And you're!— the one!— who was ready to just leave her to rot!"

   "Not leaving her now, am I!"

   "That's not the point and you know it!"

   "Putting— an awful lot of effort to be the one to— bring her back from the abyss—"

   "The last time you— tried to heal up anything— the calf got infected and was down for weeks!"

   It really, really, really was not the quietest form of decision making.

[Draconian]

The voices were harsh but familiar and they played into his dreams. Mostly as a pair of large bears growling at one another but also playing cards for some reason. At least, playing cards until one of them got up and stalked towards him. The angry swipe across his face was a good one and the pain was so intense and so real he jerked himself awake.

Avalaton's eye snapped open and he sat up quickly. Though, it was followed by a quick sharp shout of pain, his hands flying to his face to touch at the bandage over the cut on his eye. Over his eye. Was he fucking blind? Avalaton leaned forward, his hair spilling over his shoulder while he breathed heavily through the pain, air getting caught in his throat only to be choked out in a gasp. He pressed his hands to his throat, fingers sore, wrists achy. Everything ached and...

He glanced up, seeing what his mind had turned into bears and... Arm wrestling?

It hurt to move his head and Avalaton held still for a moment before everything in his being woke up. It was a head wound and he wasn't about to piss his pants. They were distracted. Maybe he could get away? He vaguely recalled them speaking common but... He also remembered them being bears. Maybe they felt bad about the wounds? Avalaton knew they didn't cause it but... Nope. He couldn't think anymore when his brain was swimming. Avalaton pushed the blanket away with a deep breath and willed himself to get up onto his knees, shuffle to the wall of the cave and slink out the mouth of it. They were yelling at each other, it would be fine.

Avalaton relieved himself, eyes half closed against what light there was outside. The rain had let up the smallest amount, a fine mist for a moment before it picked up again. It felt nice on his heated skin and Avalaton impulsively removed his shirt, ripping it off over his head, letting the fine cool mist hit his back. His hair loose messy curls though one side was crusty with blood. He felt too warm. Too tired. It was willpower that drove him and now that the risk of peeing his pants wasn't a thing he felt noodley again. Avalaton shuffled back to the mouth of the cave, his balled up shirt in one hand and he eyed the pile of blanket's he'd crawled out of.

He just felt sick now. Too warm. Too hot. He could feel how hot his breath was on his tongue and a throb of pain shot through his head. Into his head. He focussed his dark blue eye onto the one orc that spoke with him more before he wiped his mouth with his shirt and held it at his side. Sweat had started to bead on his forehead and he felt the water from the misty rain bead on his chest and drip down. Avalaton figured he looked like death warmed over. "Thank you for the help," He whispered, leaning heavily on a wall, eye closing, head pressed against the cool stone. His knees trembled before he pressed his back to the rock and slowly slid down, shirt dropping out of his hand to the ground, followed by his butt.

"Fighting over who has to leave me outside?" He panted, face flushed and eyes hooded. Not that he blamed them. He doubted orcs wanted to babysit his wounded and now feverish ass. Avalaton pressed a hand to his bare chest, feeling his heart pound before another surge of pain lance through his skull. "I don't blame you. I'm pretty fucked up," He cast a weary glance to the pair, "Is my eye gone?"

[nephero]

   It was kind of ironic that the pair of orcs were fighting over who would be the better caretaker for their injured companion. Especially since said injured companion was able to leave her blankets, shuffle off somewhere just out of sight, shuffle back, and then finally collapse onto the ground close to the mouth of the cave.

   Proper, career healers, they were not. Still, even with their growling, even with the faint scuffle of their shoes on the cave floor, even with the sporadic grunts of effort in between each score, there was no mistaking a sudden third voice in their company. It was just enough for Paja's attention to be broken, and for Kojo to slam her fist down against the boulder, his arms jerked high in victory.

   "Hah!" He crowed, but Paja wasn't paying attention to him or their contest anymore, but rather where the human was currently slumped on the floor, looking like she'd just bathed for how much sweat was pouring off her. It was no wonder she had removed her shirt—

   And like that it clicked, and Kojo found himself staring, too, brows knit tight in absolute confusion at just how... well. Minimal she was. But sometimes that happened with human women, especially the really skinny ones.

    Clearing his throat, Kojo got up from where he had been sitting, and went over to the human, reaching out to confirm that she really was burning up at this point. Which was only mildly contagious, because the only time he understood human girls got this undressed was for 'mountain-going' purposes, and surely she couldn't be thinking like that? Though considering how hot she was burning, it wouldn't have surprised Kojo if it was the fever messing with her.

   "Seeing who gets to stay while the other rides on," Kojo said.

   "Kojo wins," Paja said, slightly sullen. "He stays, I get to ride in the rain."

   Turning to Kojo again, she switched back to her native tongue, a lot quicker and smoother than her clumsy proficiency at Common: "Get her back near the fire, you idiot, before she actually does keel over. I need to hurry up if we're going to make this work."

   "Yeah, got it." Kojo replied, even as he gestured to the human about needing to pick her up and bring her back to her makeshift bedding. "Your eye is... was too damaged. Something caught you good."

   The human was so light, it was amazing how easy it was to bring her back to the blankets, Paja moving to collect the crumpled shirt and shake it out before draping the soggy thing over a nearby stalagmite. Between the two orcs, more water was set to heat over the fire, herbs tossed in and cloth soaked in the warm fluid before being gently dabbed over all the scrapes and bruises they could see. Which without her(?) shirt, was quite a bit.

   "You can't overdo it," Kojo said, being very careful as he tended to the angry, fiery gash across the human's face. "We need to get you back over the mountain before the weather sets in."

[Draconian]

They were splitting up?

Avalaton's eye was half open and he watched the pair - had he gotten their names? His breath caught in his throat when a jolt of pain caught him off guard. It was a chain reaction after that, the pain made his face crumple, which made him move the gash which just made him hiss. It was a moment to calm himself down. Uncrunch his face and try to relax. The pain didn't ebb but the sharp pinch of it was gone when he didn't make any expression at all. Relaxed as he was getting, Avalaton gave a soft gasp and didn't bother trying to wriggle away from the literal giant arms that scooped him up like he weighed nothing.

With his good cheek pressed against the orc - Avalaton had no idea what species these people were - he let his good eye close and tried to remember. Bandits. Yes, and... Big hunting knife. His eye snapped open and he almost clung to the bigger man on impuse, finding comfort in the contact that was gone too soon. Also, he was much cooler and Avalaton didn't really want to be laying on the hard ground. Everything aches. Everything was sensitive. Avalaton slipped in and out of consciousness while the pair were setting up water or something.

Whatever blanket's he had been covered in were kicked off. Everything was too warm. Only the cool breezes that came in occasionally cooled him down and even then, they did little. When there was talking again, Avalaton looked up to a strange tusked face. It looked scary but also innocent and he was really glad that it wasn't a bear. A quick glance at the clothing - "clothin" - told him that this was the one that had won the arm wrestling match. The one that was going to stay with him and nurse him back to... Health? Hang out until his fever broke?

It was an innate craving of comfort. Avalaton turned his head slightly into the hand with the cloth. Catching it so his lower face brushed against the palm with his eye closed. Tending to it stung and he could only think about the knife. His friends. The slaughter. His breath picked up and Avalaton hissed at a sharp jolt of pain before he relaxed his face again. It was hard to have emotions and be so tired and weak. Everything made him want to move his eyebrows but all that did was hurt 'cause he couldn't move just one. He could feel his pulse in his eye socket and it made him feel sick.

"Wait," Avalaton said, voice dry and husky. Impulse and need had his hand move around the orcs and slowly drag it down to his chest, force it flat against his sternum. A grounding comforting touch - even though it hadn't been willing on the orcs part. "Talk to me," Avalaton said softly, holding the hand there with his eyes closed, "What's your name?" His breath was hot on his tongue and he swallowed thickly, voice catching. "I just need you to talk to me for a bit. Please. I can't... All I can think about is..." Avalaton breathed again, arching slightly when he winced and it made his face bloom up in pain.

Heart pounding wildly from fever and anxiety, he could only think of what he'd done. He'd run away. Left his friends behind. And here he was in a safe cave with some giants that wanted to help him. "Please. I just need a few minutes." But he kept his hand flat on the orcs, pressing the palm to the middle of his chest, ignoring that it made parts of his chest ache. He was just broken all over, it seemed.

[nephero]

   There was quite a lot that could be said for a person who was sick with fever, cut up and fire-hot for what nastiness had carried through the knife and into the blood. It was hard to tell anyone no when they were like that, not for anything, but there was still a heavy line between illness forgiveness and... being wildly inappropriate.

   Which fell right under the realm of Kojo's hand being pulled to settle over the human's heart, over her breastbone, the rattle of the tiny little organ somehow thunderous against his fingertips. And oh, how Kojo blushed for it, his face darkening a deep sage green and making his scars seem all the lighter for it, as if he'd only gotten them a few weeks prior. If the human knew just how tender such a thing was, she certainly didn't show it, skin dewy with sweat from her brow all the way down to where Kojo's hand was being held hostage.

   Somewhere to their left, closer to the opening of the cave, Paja gave a low snort and wheeze, and Kojo glared over his shoulder even as she continued to guffaw with no consideration for his embarrassment.

   "Uh," Kojo began, lamely, feeling his flush deepen in that awful itchy way that reached the tips of his ears. Thank everything there was for the human's fever— maybe she wouldn't remember his stuttering.

   The human kept mumbling, kept pleading for speech, and something in the way she kept trying to close her eye to everything spoke volumes about just what kind of thing hunted her— and not all of it to do with whoever had cut her face so badly. Feeling a little more than awkward about it, Kojo moved his captive hand, not away but rather in a gentle side to side motion, the same that he might have used to soothe a nervous foal spooked by some mountain rumble.

   "I'm Kojo, that's Paja," he said, quietly as he dared, careful to keep his hand motions short and perfectly agreeable, while the other pushed some of the dark waves out of the human's face and back along her skull where it wouldn't potentially catch. "We move up and down these mountains. Cattle. Good animals, bad stink in season. The fur catches, you know, holds onto it. Have to shear it away if you plan on using any of it."

   It wasn't what anyone would call good conversation, talking about cattle musk, but it was the only thing Kojo could think of to say that he had a lot to say about. And talking about the nitty-gritty of raising the great beasts helped him forget just how they looked then, his hand over her heart and held tight as if it would be her doom to let go.

   Feeling the prickle of another wave of blush forming, Kojo tried to focus hard on what he was saying, though the words seemed to be far less willing to spill out.

   "It's, uh, getting to be the time to move it all down, into the valleys. Cooler weather, but plenty of grasses, and out of where the storms hit. Except now. Early rains. But maybe that's a good thing, yeah? It, uh. Well. It was good timing."

   Another snort from the cave entrance, along with the sound of ropes tightening as Paja finished packing up her horse.

   "Such a charmer, my friend," she called back in a singsong, snickering to herself through a wide grin of teeth and tusks, "should tell her about how much the rains wash out the cow shit so we don't have to."

   "Get on out of here, already!" Kojo called back, huffing and agitated and more than a little humiliated by how terrible he was at this. Paja might not have been great at the Common language, but she did have a talented tongue, and while her words didn't come so easy, at least they were better placed. But such was her subtle revenge at losing their contest— he got to stay and play hero, but he also got to be very, very bad at it.

   "What's your name?" he asked, finally, as Paja hoisted herself up onto her mount's back and started the slow trek out of their shelter and out onto the road once more.

[Draconian]

Kojo. Paja. Paja was the one that was leaving. Leaving because of him? Avalaton winced, eyebrows drawing up in some strange form of grief because he felt - fleetingly - like it was his fault. Were they splitting up because this one wanted to take care of him?  The hand at his chest was comforting beyond anything he'd been expecting and he held his hand on top of Kojo's at his chest. Horrified how much his heart was pounding still. Everytime he thought he'd manage to calm down his pulse would pick up again because he'd think of... Anyone.

Avalaton closed his eye for a moment, trying not to think of the lost comrades or where they were now. Kojo speaking though had his eyes snap open and he gave a watery tired blue eye'd look up at Kojo while he explained that... The sheeps? (were they sheep? he had missed that part) would get stinky and they had to move them. And they didn't want stinky wool. Or something. Despite the fact it was a strange conversation, being told such mundane information was a balm on his bruised and battered mind.

Now that the shock had ebbed ever so slightly, every time he closed his eyes -eye now, he supposed - all he could see were blades slicing through chests like they were bags of hay. Avalaton watched Kojo intently, his eyes drifting shut though quickly snapping open. Unwilling to rest and instead he just soaked up the warmth offered him from the kind hand on his chest, disliking how the warmth of his fever just made him cold. A shiver ran through him when a gentle gust came into the cave mouth, cooling the sweat on his body and giving him goosebumps.

" I think the early rain is a good thing," he ground out through his teeth through a throb of pain that ran into his skull. The little cuts and knicks had nothing on the gash across his eye. Was his eye still in there? Avalaton reached up the hand that wasn't resting on Kojo's and pressed it to his lower cheek, gently testing the sensitivity of the shallowest part. The gasp and his hand jerking away was a good indicator that the whole thing hurt more than anything he could possibly imagine. While he was busy poking his wound, Paja left and Avalaton focussed his good eye on the orc man above him.

The one oh so gently comforting him for... What ends?

"Avalaton," he said softly, eyes falling closed for a moment. He held his breath for another throb of pain that ran through his head. "My name is Avalaton," There was a smile, though it was lopsided so it didn't bother the gash on the wounded side of his face, "My friends call me Avvy." It was a good effort to remain awake, his hand squeezing Kojo's hand when he started to drift off again to the blissfull state of sleep. "I owe you," he whispered, "Anything. Once I get back home I can... I know important people y'know. Get you a dragon to pet."

Still, Avalaton held Kojo's hand to his chest. Palm pressed to his fluttering heartbeat, selfishly demanding comfort. Not that he could tell what colour an orc blushed anyway. They were orcs! They weren't shy! Not wanting to fall asleep, Avalaton desperately keep his eye open, "Do you like what you do, Kojo?" His voice was losing volume and it was clear he was about half asleep at this point, "I haven't ever cattle'd before."

[nephero]

   Well, there was no getting his hand back now. The human had latched onto his much larger one, and Kojo was not about to admit to anyone that the feel of fingers against his own felt overwhelmingly nice. The touch was soft, weak, like a breath of wind on an otherwise stifling summer day, but Kojo found himself turning his hand against the human's own, his thumb running over her knuckles in a hopefully soothing gesture.

   She needed sleep, but it was clear such things would not come easy, with fever and chills and whatever else lingered when she closed her eyes, and so Kojo stopped trying to insist on it. She shivered, and Kojo simply shifted in his seat, moving to get between the human and the cave mouth so his much larger frame might help ease the chill in the air.

   "Early rain is good," Kojo agreed, softly, while nudging the human's free hand away with his own to keep her from prodding at her injury any further. Not that she seemed to need reminding, with how she winced and sucked in a sharp breath.

   At first, Kojo didn't understand the word. It wasn't any word he'd heard before in all his dealings with traders and horsemen, and for a moment he had to frown as he tried to figure out what the human was saying. Avalaton? A val a ton? He understood the soft "ah" as a kind of thing part of the Common language, meaning a singular aspect, and ton meaning many, but he didn't know 'val' and he didn't understand how something could be one and many at the same time—

   But then Avalaton finished her thought, eyes shut against the pain she was suffering from, and Kojo blushed to have taken so long to figure out what she had been saying. Avalaton. Her name was a bit long, but it was lovely, bouncing between vowels and consonants as it did. Kojo couldn't help but smile back at her.

   "You don't owe me anything, Avalaton," he said, free hand up and waving the notion away like a bothersome fly. Like the tail of his stallion flicking idly to the side.

   The part about getting a dragon though, that was... unnerving. Kojo tongued at a tusk before hurriedly pushing past the idea, all too keen on waving away the concept that this human thought she might "get" a dragon to do anything.

   But arguing that with a fevered human wasn't exactly going to be effective right then and there, and so Kojo pushed away his discomfort, and instead focused on keeping Avalaton's own. She was having trouble keeping her remaining eye open, fighting the need for rest every step of the way. It was cute, almost like a youngling refusing to admit they were tired, wanting to stay up by the campfires with the rest of the adults and failing miserably mere minutes in.

   Keen to have her finally get sleep, Kojo kept up his gentle touches to her hand, his motions slow and even and his words quiet as he replied.

   "It's everything I've ever done. It's hard work, but it's good and free. I always sucked at weaving, anyway, it's better I'm out and away." He smiled a bit at the thought of his last attempt to help with the wool, and how it had ended so disastrously it was decided he simply needed to keep as far away from the looms as was possible.

   "You might have some trouble cattle'ing," he said, light and teasing. "You're so tiny. But maybe you can help with the calves. The very, very newborn calves."

[Draconian]

Tiny?

Avalaton's eye popped open so quickly it made his face hurt. There had been active effort to not try to move his eyes too much, each movement making something twinge in the injured socket but... Tiny? Avalaton sighed, staring straight ahead before accepting that... Yes. Compared to orc he was quite tiny.

"M'not tiny," He slurred out, the need to sleep catching up with him. Avalaton sighed, letting himself slowly shut down. He felt warm. Comfortable. Safe.  "you're just huge." And those were the last words he said before he fell asleep. Fevered and wounded.

The dreamd came quickly.A replay of the incident. Watching his squad get cut down like they were nothing. They'd obviously been followed for a time. They killed the two seasoned soldiers first. Killed whoever next. Were Dax, Kesrel and Sincuvo still alive?

All he could see was blood. All he could taste was blood. His heart pounded and he could hear it. Avalaton gasped sharply, feeling his stomach turn. Everything smelled like blood. All he could see was his friends behind killed and a sob welled up in his throat.

He had to move. He had to go. Avalaton woke with a start, eye opening wide before he rolled onto his hands and knees and staggered his way outside the save. It was night time. The rain had let up and he looked up at the dark sky. Deep breaths.

The strength didn't last long.

Avalaton quickly fell to his knees onto the wet moss. One hand to his face and the other cradling his middle. The sob's were broken and full of unexpressed agony. Crying hurt. Losing his friends hurt. Moving hurt. "I'm sorry," he breathed, voice thick, "I ran away like a coward." Avalaton just sat at the mouth of the cave, shivering from cold and wet, apologizing to the unseen stars.

[nephero]

   "No, you're very, very tiny." Kojo argued back, though with a large grin and his shoulders shaking with repressed laughter. He knew he was huge, compared to human beings. Even the tall folk of Essyrn and Adela were barely to his chest full grown, but that didn't mean he didn't enjoy teasing about it every now and again.

   But, it seemed as if Avalaton had finally had enough, and her fight against sleep was finally lost. Kojo watched as her remaining eye closed, and slowly his grin faded as she settled back into her blankets.

   He would need sleep, too, soon. But not just yet— it wasn't the first time he'd had to stay up, though usually he was used to it being because of a sick cow, or a birth, or... not a person. In all his short years, nothing had been bad enough to stop him, or Paja, not any amount of cuts or bruises. Not like this, anyhow.

   Humans were so tiny. They were so fragile. It was probably why they aged so slow. They had to be careful, be delicate. Things like this happened, and it was so easy to knock them down, and it was so rare for them to get back up. Kojo huffed, quick and quiet, and looked out to the mouth of the cave where his own horse stood, seeming terribly lonely now that it was just them.

   Kojo settled away, against the wall to better keep watch. Or, at least, that had been the theory, because despite everything, Kojo soon fell asleep, snoring lightly and utterly undisturbed until a soft chuff of alarm pulled him back to the waking world. His horse was tossing his head, stamping at the ground, and Kojo frowned in confusion at first. Where was Paja's horse?

   Everything from the previous day came back to him in a rush, then, and soon he was wide awake, and cracking his head on a stalactite as he jumped to his feet. Cussing harshly, Kojo rubbed at where his forehead had met and broken the stone, looking around the cave to find that Avalaton had disappeared.

   Shit. Shit! Where could she have gone? How the hell had he fallen asleep? She was so small, so sick, so frail, and he'd let her slip off, and Grandfathers only knew what wild animal could have gotten to her in her state. Kojo ran out the cave mouth, staring into the dimness of the evening with only the coals from the dying fire to grant him sight.

   He was about to engage in full panic mode when a soft sound caught his attention, and he turned to the side to see Avalaton sitting there, shivering and sniffling, muttering something to someone that Kojo himself couldn't see. Breathing deeply in relief, Kojo moved over to her, intending to scoop her back up and cart her back inside when the words finally caught on. A lot of it didn't make sense, but there was enough, and Kojo kneeled down next to the human woman, his hand settling warmly against her frigid back.

   "Hey. Hey. You're going to die, you keep this up. How're you supposed to make up for everything then?"

   Kojo looked back to the cave, back to his horse, and went to get a blanket if only to keep Avalaton from catching her death out in the dark and the damp. He settled the thick cover over her shoulders, and set to rubbing at her back and shoulders, hoping to at least ease the shivers then.

   "You said bandits before. That what you ran from?"

[Draconian]

There was nothing in him but regret and guilt. 

What a coward he had been to just leave like that. Avalaton welcomed the pain of the cold rain and the shiver to his skin because he deserved it. Who knew where his comrades were now and what was happening to them but... Avalaton squeezed his eyes shut and sunk his fingers into the ground, getting them wet with moss and mud. Feeling his finger tips scrape against the roots and rocks and wishing to feel the sharp bite of stone and the warm release of blood.

The generous helper ruined that plan though and Avalaton looked over at Kojo, eyes wide and red. He sucked in a gentle breath and glanced away before letting his head fall down, feeling some semblance of shame at his actions. He shouldn't be out here in the rain. Shouldn't be making himself potential worse. The chance of an infection was high and he knew he shouldn't be getting his eye wet.

Or his lack of eye.

Avalaton leaned in to the hand at his back, letting the warmth and comfort wash over him like a balm. "We're all new," Avalaton explained, voice rough and low, "This was our first mission, we were only supposed to scout but..." His head dropped down, "We were eating dinner and let our guard down. I guess they'd been following us for a few days because it was a slaughter." Avalaton moved his hand to his throat, one of the lucky few - or was it unlucky? - that didn't get their throat slit first.

So many of his friends dead. Left to rot in the forest.

"A few of us were carried off. I think they were going to sell us to the slave markets but... I was a coward. I had a chance so I took it and... I was almost caught again but I made it free. I..." Avalaton lifted his hand to his face, touched his cheek under the wound, "I don't know if it was worth it. I may die from this anyway. I left my friends behind and I'm just... I have to go." Avalaton stood up, the blanket falling away and he took a few steps to the side of the cave, pressing a hand to the cold stone.

"I have to go help. Maybe I can do something. Or..." He lifted his head and looked out into the night, "Back to Ketra. Rouse the dragonriders and let them know what happened." Avalaton turned, flushed from fever and trembling from cold, "Can you help me? Please? I'll pay you. I can give you anything you want once we get to Ketra but I can't make it alone. Not in time."

[nephero]

It wasn't as if Kojo was a stranger to the idea of wanting to reclaim honor lost. He was... a bit of an oddity amongst his tribe, certainly, with his penchant for the outside world and all its offerings, and he tended to bring more foreign attitudes home with him from his interactions with the tiny human folk. It had proven to be a difficult difference between himself and his father more than once, and Kojo knew disappointment was a good part of it.

Ironically enough, it was that same disappointment that had him hesitating. The right and proper thing to do would be to allow this human the chance to reclaim her honor after so terrible a blow to it. Cowardice, after all, did not lend to the strength of spirit that was so deeply important to a man's... er, in this case, woman's life. Even if it did end up causing her death. And as a bystander to all of this, Kojo himself was duty bound to see that honor fulfilled.

But that meant leaving the cave, and heading back up the mountain pass, which was entirely not in the plan he'd created with Paja. Now he was faced with the idea of riding up to his tribe with a sickly human in tow, like some orc pup dragging a "pet" rabbit into camp with the full intentions of keeping it. It was childish, and Kojo could just see the look on the Chief's face now. Just another instance of Kojo acting wildly out of line, and what was more, endangering the tribe by intervening with the slavers. If they had stayed in the cave it might've been he'd be able to kind of... sneak past all of that, but moving now, right then...

He looked down at Avalaton, into her remaining eye, bright with fever and rimmed red from anguish.

"Don't worry," he said, in what he hoped was a soothing tone for how it rumbled, "I'll get you to Ketra. We'll need to stop to resupply to get that far, though."

Kojo grimaced a bit, and bent to fix Avalaton's blanket, before just as swiftly dismantling the camp. He'd never hear the end of this. But he also knew he'd never be able to live with himself if he didn't.

"I'm going to lift you up, now," he said as way of warning, easily hoisting the much tinier human up and onto his horse's back. It'd be a tight fit with them both in the saddle, but it would be easier to keep her from toppling over if Kojo rode behind. And considering she wasn't willing to wait for her health-- not that he could blame her-- it was all the more important they didn't waste time with unfortunate tumbles into the mud. Especially if they were going to reach the tribe before they got on the move.