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Date Posted: 01:11:43 03/07/02 Thu
Author: Tristan
Subject: Wee...ouch, that hurts
In reply to: Valhorek 's message, "Healing the dragon" on 19:00:14 03/06/02 Wed

When Tristan felt Marz grip his hand, a strange, pleasant feeling surged through him. The feel of a warm, human palm pressed against his own, fingers squeezing lightly, seemed to jumpstart his senses, finally grounding his brain back into this smaller, more sensitive body of his. He hissed through his teeth as he began to feel the pain of his injuries more keenly as well, but in a way, he couldn’t help but welcome them. It meant he was human again.

As soon as the healer came, the first thing he did was send Marz away with Corum to find a building with a bed. “No!” Tristan cried out, reaching stupidly for the hand that had released his own. Immediately, he felt like a complete idiot, overwhelmed and confused over his sudden need to not be alone. Grow up, he commanded himself, so he frowned and tried to relax, his muscles automatically stiffening, though, when Val began working on his leg.

He couldn’t help the continuous, low-throated growl he gave while the healer did his best to fix and suture the wound. He was still only half-human, and was doing his damnedest to reign his instincts in. All in all, Valhorek was lucky he didn’t get bitten during the procedure—right now, Tristan felt like one of those wolves with its foot caught in a trap, yellow eyes watching warily as some kindly human went about attempting to free it.

“No, I’m fine,” he said, baring his teeth slightly as he brushed at the healer’s hands when the man began pulling at the laces on his shirt. He had this silly urge to keep his injuries under wraps as much as possible. This was difficult to do, however, since the back of his shirt was now soaked in blood. For some stupid reason, he was almost too feeble to resist the healer’s efforts, who had his shirt off so he could begin removing the arrow from his shoulder in less than a few seconds.

Tristan was no Marz, who embraced pain as if it were something he’d grown to accept as a part of his life. Val was right—numbing salve or not, it hurt! “Mmph!” he mumbled through the rag, his eyes flying wide as he watched the healer pull out a small scalpel and begin cutting into his flesh. What the hell is he doing?? Black spots danced before his eyes as the offending weapon was pulled swiftly out. By the time he’d been bandaged up, his back finally attended to, he was ready to swear off fighting in dragon form ever again. Not if he was going to become so enraged he practically lost all sense every time, allowing himself to be injured on account of careless, instinctual wrath.

Very briefly, he thought of his teacher: calm, cold Odarin, who had vowed to remain human forever, had even requested his student remain that way while with him. That couldn’t be why, though, he thought, too dazed and tired to give the matter much more consideration.

Walking was tricky, even with Marz and Corum’s help. He almost laughed, for he had the incredible bad luck to be injured on both sides of his body! Fortunately, he could still put a bit of his weight on his right leg, even though it hurt like hell. The supporting hands around his waist and shoulders brushed against his cuts, too, though they were thankfully bandaged. Well, maybe the pain was a good thing. Teach him to be more responsible in battle next time. Trouble was, he never could seem to think responsibly as a dragon. Maybe Dalo was right in thinking of me as just a beast, he mused, suddenly feeling guilty for missing the man’s company. There was another person who’d called him a beast, too…a girl. What was her name?

“Illani,” he muttered, oblivious to Marz and Corum’s curious looks. She had told him when they first met that having sex with him would be no less than bestiality. He’d been so embarrassed he’d pretended to be mad at her, tossing her a few course words of his own before stomping off to sulk by himself. I have such a way with handling problems, don’t I?

By the time they made it to the little one room wooden hut with the cot, he was starting to grow dizzy. Strange thoughts flitted through his head as well; people he’d known from the past were whispering to him, either quietly insulting him or giving him grave words of advice.

He lay down on his right sight, grimacing as his injuries protested. “No, don’t go,” he said, blinking sleepily, even though neither Marz nor Corum had made any move toward the door. Sweet gods, I need a fix, he thought, actually smiling as he imagined the bliss rushing through his body, stealing all his little hurts away. Did he say that out loud? He wasn’t sure. He was very tired.

“You two have to entertain me. I don’t want to stay in here all by myself.” Finally, his eyes found Marz, and he smiled again. “I love you,” he added, suddenly swept away with emotion. I must have lost a lot of blood, he thought. I wish he would come and lie down next to me. I never really realized how much Corum looks like that skull of his. Damn it, where did all those spiders go?

Too much to think about. Best just to stay here and let his mind wander on other things for now. Think about getting better. Wasn’t that what the healer said? He didn't know. Maybe he had imagined that, too.

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