OOC: Tags
@Blink !
The water was bitter cold as he splashed it across his face and took great big gulps of it from his scooping hands. The road had been too long and unkind, and he had been on the run for days. Where he had been stationed, deep in the thick of the war, far up North in Ahjfeld near the fallen mage camps, was ruthless. He wondered if he was assigned on this mission to hang. There was no law there in the North and so many rebels it out numbered the scars he received in barely surviving his mercenaries ambush.
He wasn't sure where his legs had taken him now, his horse, having been killed while he was on a run, made it seem all the more futile. But he didn't want to die. Not here. Not like this. Not
ever. But the order had brought him this way, and surely he'd feel their wrath when he would report his fail.
He took another gulp of water, choked on it as he coughed over the water until he vomited it back into the stream. He wiped the acid taste frm his lips and groaned, before opening his eyes to stare down at his reflection, tickling with distortion as the waters ran past. He winced to see all of the wounds upon his face, the dirt, the stained blood.
But he needed
food. He needed shelter, water, homage,
Anything.But
they wanted him to die. And he had made too much noise, didn't run far enough away when the marksman found him. Kentamin didn't even have a chance to respond, inhaling the water when he saw the musket.
And it fired.
His ears were bleeding in a ring as he fell forward, floundering in the waters. He hit his head, his already bleeding shoulder knocking off a sharp rock before he resurfaced and barely got a glimpse of the man's face as he fired again.
Where the bullet hit, he didn't know- for he dove, dove down, deep, deep, deeper into the waters until he almost passed out from holding his breath. When he resurfaced he was a ways down,t he waters picking up speed and he, floundering again as he tried to figure out just where he was.
Where was the man? Where was the waters going? And then as he turned to face the spiraling waters that now frothed with rapids, he missed spotting the rock until it was too late.
****
Hours.. or was it days later, he awoke, groaning with his face pressed into the bank of the river. Moving hurt. He felt like an entire army had stepped over him and when he went to move he cried out in pain, clutching onto his arm as he turnd to see it, swollen and gaping with an open wound from the musket. The pain was so intense, as was his shock to see such a large wound on his body, that he was visibly shaking.
He was shaking from the pain, from the stress, from the hunger, from the thirst, and for just a few good long moments he simply sobbed, wishing he had at least could have died when he had been knocked out. But Ansgar had a funny way of saving his life, and after recovering some of his sanity, he finally picked himself up to move again.
Water had been an easy source to find. He just clung to the river, even if it had tried to kill him. But he needed to eat. He could feel himself growing weaker by the hours as he scouted the forests for something,
anything to help him get some food. Chasing down birds was useless, and he had little patients for any larger game. So another night came and went.
He woke up shivering and ill. He wiped away the snot dripping from his nose and as he moved to stand something caught his eye. Curiously, he moved to get a better look, just as he caught sight of the large boar that was far too close for comfort. It made a noise. And so did he, and soon he found himself running as the sharp tasks of the beast was gaining on him. He couldn't believe the luck of it all as his eyes watered up and he cried out to Ansgar.
And that's when he saw her- some woman with hair of gold, light shining on her from where the canopy of trees parted away int he winds. She was right in his way. Which meant she was righ tin the way of the path of the boar.
There was no time to think as he raced passed the stranger and grabbed her roughly byt he hand and shouted,
"Run!"