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Avvercus

Sand, Iron, and Honey

32 posts in this topic

He had the sun at his back, an ally flanking, equipment suitable for the foe, and was well rested and uninjured. Kal’to couldn’t ask or pray for a more beneficial situation to fight a monster in. Chrysilla got in position, and the beast was still as it continued to try and strike with its tail. The deadly appendage shook side to side for a brief moment before each strike, giving the warrior-smith ample warning to dodge and block.

At his companion’s signal, Kal let loose a mighty roar and charged, meeting a vicious bit towards his thigh with the indomitable shield he favored so much. His hammer swung, bring all the metal shaping power of it’s weight to bear on the beast’s skull once more more. Crack went the bone as it fractured, and rip went the cloth of Kal’to’s shoulder as the beast’s claws retracted and the manticor reeled back. Chrysilla’s strike too had landed home, further driving the nail of pain and injury into the monster’s mind.

Sand churned as blood dripped and pads twisted in furious agony. A whip-like snarl lashed at the pair as the thing finally relented, know this this prey was not so simple, and too much of a risk. With a limp in its gait and a dazed stagger to it’s direction, the threat made a hasty egress, slinking over a dune with speed that was terrifying considering its state of injury.

Kal’to dropped his hammer and rushed over to Chrysilla before the beast even faded from sight. His hands flew over her as he fussed, looking for injuries, not noticing the crimson blossoming through the white clothing on his shoulder.

“Are you hurt, bumblebee?” his voice was concerned and a worried frown covered his face.

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Chrysilla watched with satisfaction as the beast flailed and snapped, infuriated by its sustained wounds. Even now, though, she gave it a wide berth, spear at the ready, eyes narrowed as the monster headed in the opposite direction with an odd, almost janky gait. It reminded her vaguely of one of her kind running with a broken leg, though this was far less tragic. The monster might yet live. If one of her kin had lost a leg, they'd certainly die right away, if only due to the Queen's command. She glanced elsewhere, and in doing so managed to react to the speeding blur that was her ally. Master Kal'to came out of left field, and grabbed at her, causing her to drop Stinger in surprise as his hands hiked up her sleeves and felt along her legs. The Hero wasn't too sure what to expect, but she was pretty sure this was supposed to seem helpful. She remained still as his questing hands felt her all over, until he asked her if she was alright.

"I'm quite fine, Master..." She caught a glimpse of the red stain on his shoulder, and her words halted. She broke free from his grip, and reached out, curious. She hadn't noticed the would earlier, what had hit him?
"Your shoulder..." She began, before her voice dropped an octave, as if she expected him to be angry with her for noticing. "You're bleeding."
Nevertheless, Chrysilla soon turned the tables on her partner, and grabbed him gently by the wrist, while her other hand roamed up his arm. She lifted the bloodied cloth away, and stared curiously at the wound beneath. It wasn't a terrible gash, so to speak; his shoulder was still attached. Yet the bee-girl couldn't help but notice that it seemed to be a rather troublesome wound. It would have issues closing on its own, and if it couldn't close, he'd bleed much more. She started tugging him back towards the Willand.

"Come, come!" She instructed. "I must get you out of those clothes, Master Kal'to!" She declared.

Once her friend was indoors, she tugged him to what she considered the safest place to keep him for the time being, and wasted no time in putting Kal'to to bed. She dragged him into the bedroom slowly, and eased him down onto the bed. Her uniform brushed against his chest, her breath against his forehead as she laid him back, before she pulled back just a bit. Her hands snaked beneath his shirt, and felt the steel of his abdominal muscles beneath her kneading fingers. Yet as her fingertips brushed against his flesh, she began lifting up and away from his body, taking the shirt off easily. With it off, she had a much better view of his wound, and fretted softly. She wasn't trained to deal with injured people. In fact, she was astonished that she knew he needed treatment. With what she did know about humanity, however, she knew for a fact that wounds like this were dangerous. Other humans would react quite poorly to seeing it, which spoke volumes about how much trouble her charge might be in.

She needed guidance on how to help him. Chrysilla sat on the bed next to him, and bent over, her voice husky, breathless with worry. "Oh, Master Kal...what am I supposed to do from here? I've never done this sort of thing with anyone before..." She admitted, gnawing on her lower lip. She fixed him with a stare that plainly said 'I want to help you.' She hoped he wasn't too hurt that he couldn't recognize her intent to help. 

 

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