The Shadow of a man... (Dragonsong)

[Wycliff]

The young man glances at Maka in confusion as the bounty hunter whips both blades at high speed toward him, one aimed at his liver and the other the back of his neck. The boy whirls around, catching sight of the attack, and throws up his left palm, deftly catching both daggers: one piercing through his hand, and the other sheathed in his gut. Conversely, the bounty hunter gurgles blood and slumps forward, a shadow tendril speared through his jugular the only thing holding him upright.
The boy staggers, and falls onto his back in shock, eyes closed shut and teeth gritted.


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[DragonSong]

"Get up!" Maka whirled to club the man who'd sprung at her from the left with the hilt of her blade. She looked back to the mage. "On your feet, kid, or you're dead!"

[Wycliff]

The young man gritted his teeth harder as he yanked the knife from his hand, spilling a steady stream of black blood onto the cobblestone. He hesitated, taking a few labored breathes, before doing the same with the blade embedded in his stomach. A gasp wrenched its way from his mouth as his robe wetted with lifeblood. With a gesture from his hand, the shadows rose from under him, propping him up as he gained his balance. Strangely, the wound on his hand was gone.


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[DragonSong]

"Come on." Maka grabbed his shoulder and yanked him after her down an alley, eyes darting around.

"Fucking idiot," she grumbled. "You're lucky there weren't more of them. They one I downed will be awake quick enough. I hope you've got some place to hide out?"

[Wycliff]

A sick, fleshy sound emanated from the boy's stomach as he grimaced, as if his insides were rearranging themselves. A small trickle of blood escaped the corner of his mouth as he labored to talk. "Yes, in the forest," He gasped, "An underground shelter."


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[DragonSong]

"Alright." She tucked herself under his arm, forcing him to lean on her. "You're gonna have to guide me there, okay? Then I can get a look at you."

[Wycliff]

The young man is actually fairly light for his size, barely any muscle definition whatsoever. His silver eyes were drooped, the squelching noises of innards still present. His voice came out as a soft whisper as he guided her behind the tavern and straight into the forest.
Past the trees and brush they hobbled, the noise from his bowels ceasing after a minute. In the silence, the young man turns his head to his rescuer, his voice a bit hoarse, but better than before. "Why are you helping me?"


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[DragonSong]

"Are you complaining?" Maka dragged him further into the trees. "Come on, kid, just tell me where we're going."

[Wycliff]

Even through the pain, Aven's expression is apprehensive. "You saw my abilities: even to most mages, such powers are grotesque and evil, yet you would still aid one such as me?" He points her to turn at a tree with a large knot at the base.


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[DragonSong]

Maka was quiet for a few long moments.

"Not all magic is pretty," she murmured finally. "We don't choose what gifts we're born with- here?"

She looked around, trying to figure out where exactly she could hide them so she could get a look at his wounds.

[Wycliff]

Aven nodded, extending a hand outward toward the ground. "Yes..." The ground in front of them shimmered, turning black as night. Then, in the span of a single second, it was gone, a mass of black particles in its wake. The dark cloud floated upward, revealing a stairway into the depths of the earth. Aven coughed violently, a small spray of black blood coating the grass beside him. "Down there..."


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[DragonSong]

"Gods." With a sigh, she adjusted his arm over her shoulders and started down the stair. "I hope you've got medicinal supplies down here. I'm no healer," she grumbled.

Wouldn't that be just perfect, to get the kid to safety only to have him die of his wounds. Great, another ghost following her around.

[Wycliff]

Aven coughed once more, a bit less blood emerging this time, and gestured with his hand toward the dark cloud above them. It reassembled into solid matter, sealing them inside. Luckily, further down the stairs, a light beckoned them forward. "I have the means to treat this, yes."


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[DragonSong]

"Alright." She moved them toward the light. "What's your name, anyhow?"

She couldn't really just keep calling him "kid".

[Wycliff]

The young man hobbled along with her into the light, his breath labored. "Aven. Yours?" He kept the words brief, saving his strength for walking. They emerged into a room structured as a living space, with cushioned furniture and an ornate rug in the middle. Many candles illuminated the area, including the entryways to two additional spaces. Aven shuffled toward to one directly forward. "This way..."


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[DragonSong]

"Makani." She winced slightly as he hobbled forward and tried to urge him into a seat. "Here- I might have to cut your shirt off to get a properly look, hope you've got spares."

[Wycliff]

Aven shook his head, sitting down at her behest. He pointed to the door he was trying to go to. "In there... on the counter..."


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[DragonSong]

Maka nodded and slipped into the small space, then called back, "What am I supposed to be retrieving?"

[Wycliff]

Aven labors to turn his head and answer. "There's a jar of jerky in there," he clutched his side in pain, "Bring that.."

[DragonSong]

"Got it." She returned with the jar and held it out to him wordlessly.