[IC] On Winding Roads (Lillian & Derren )

[Derren Krenshaw]

"Right... of course." Smile taking on something of a nervous hue, Alexi nevertheless agreed to her offer. Belly full and the worries of the earlier day fading with the oncoming exhaustion, he couldn't muster enough concern to truly balk at the suggestion. She had brought it up before, after all, and if he had wanted a chance to refuse, then would have been the time to speak up.

Perhaps he was becoming too prudish. The scribe could clearly imagine how Charles might react to such a suggestion, and indeed found it easy to picture himself responding in a similar way. But it seemed like that 'him' was a far younger one, and the picture painted in his mind bore an almost condescending tint, as if looking back on the poor soul he once was.

Maybe he was too self-conscious, but neither would earn him more than a sore day tomorrow. Rationale remained as solid a bastion as ever for Alexi's oft-conflicted thoughts, and he planted himself firmly behind it's walls once more now.

"Back certainly, if sitting on a horse most of the day is any worse that in a chair, I'll need it."

He certainly would, that fact helping more than a little as he began to unbutton his tunic. Part of him mused that he should have done a better bathing job first, but he worked to push that thought away. Some thoughts would not help right now.

Instead... instead he thought of the light, the strange, flickering flame he had glimpsed before. What were the stories he knew? Seastars? No, Seastars he knew, the trickster-demons of the sea. False, dancing lights to lure the unwary, they shimmered like stars just below the water's surface. He remembered them from his childhood, the cautionary tales he fell asleep to each night, and even the time he had snuck out to see them for himself.

But these lights had been dancing flames, not stars, hiding in the darkness of close-growing trees. A cousin? Some land-based demon who used the same tactics?

But to what end? Sure the forest was not altogether safe, but he had made his way through once, somehow. He didn't recall seeing such lights that time, either. A trick of the setting sun? Or... something to do with the seasons? Seastars he knew about, but what he saw earlier... it could be anything, couldn't it? The chance of a demon, had to be slim.

Slim was still a danger, but as the memory of that flickering flame danced in his eyes, that danger seemed oddly far away. What was a little danger? He had made it through more dangerous situations today alone, what could go wrong?

Dancing, flickering, entrancing flames, he simply could not get them out from his mind.

Quietly, he mused over his memory of the flame, pulling his tunic free to rest it on his lap. His back was pale, barely touched by sun and never by wound. Much like the rest of him, light skin hugged tightly to the flesh and bone of his form. Mind swiftly vanishing elsewhere, following a lovely light, Alexi relaxed, allowing Katherine to do what she needed to help him, without worry.

[Lillian Thorne]

She could see the focus leave his eyes, even in the light of the small campfire. A faraway look that filled him and said he was far, far away. Perhaps he was even then working on some dusty scroll that caught his attention more than his travel-companion, a hired guard who had just happened to save his life, more than once.

It was a surprisingly petty thought, one that brought her up short. She was almost grateful he was so distracted because he wouldn’t then see the embarrassed flush that darkened her face. She resisted taking another pull on her flask, thinking that maybe she’d had too much. Perhaps drink had given rise to such idiocy of thought. He had all but been a priest, living among them and she’d certainly seen that in some ways he’d taken on their lifestyle. Hadn’t that Alex chided him about it? No matter, him lost in his own thoughts would make her work easier, no doubt. She walked on her knees over to him, pot of salve in hand, circling around to see his pale, smooth back. Not a mark on him, not something that should have surprised her. But still it did. How often had she seen such smooth, untouched skin on someone her age? Not often. Mercenaries celebrated their scars, seeing them as badges of surviving adversity. But that would do little good to an ink-stained scholar, would it?

Taking out a healthy scoop of the salve she warmed it in her fingers before applying it to his shoulders, smoothing it across the taut skin, pressing in with fingers and thumbs before moving her hands downwards. She didn’t linger, but she was efficient. Firmness and experience made the work effective and she felt knots loosen under her fingers, bits of tightness that would be much less painful in the morning because of the looseness and warmth she was giving him this night. Ideally she’d work his thighs and buttocks like she’d done for brothers at arms after hard rides but she felt little drive to press the matter. No doubt he would refuse and she wasn’t certain she wanted to push into that sort of change in their positions at this or any point. So back done she covered the pot and cleared her throat, strangely unwilling to touch him casually and break whatever thought he was on. But it was cool and he was without a shirt. They would make no progress if he took ill.

She settled for tapping him on the shoulder.

“All set, Sir.” She said. “Take the pot, work some into your calves and legs if you think to before you settle in for the night. It will make the morning easier.”

Then she stood, no knee walk for this retreat, and moved back to the comfort of her side of the fire. Back to her place. Settling down she pulled her leather cleaning kit from her pack. Setting it beside her she began to remove her chest-piece, with careful, practiced motions, her eyes as unfocused as Alexi’s had been, as memories of other camps, other companions rushed to the fore front. Quietly she set to work, understanding just how important well cared for armor could be.

[Derren Krenshaw]

The sudden tap on his shoulder jolted Alexi from the near trance of his thoughts, as he suddenly became aware of the lingering sensations across his back. Pleasant reminders of ministrations he couldn't seem to remember receiving. The salve sank into his skin with a slight, somehow welcome sensation of burning, the pressures and knots where Katherine had used just a little more pressure standing out all the more... and only in a good way. It made him both welcome and regret not asking her to do more, too prudish, again? He could almost hear Charles' laughter from here, the thought causing him to shake his own head in amused self-pity.

"Thank you, I'll do just that."

Donning his shirt again, Alexi moved to grab the jar start moving for his pack... to find his mind wandering yet again. This time in concern, over a previous thought that only now struck him as odd. He didn't recall Katherine applying the lotion to his back? How could he not? Strange, strange, what had he been thinking about, to have completely missed that? Not his work, unfortunately, so then, what h... wait...

He paused at his pack, fingers poised to reach for his tablet, but gaze drifting elsewhere. Away from the work he had been planning to do, away from the thoughts he had been focusing on, attention and eyes found themselves pulled away from the camp entirely. Away from the warming glow of the firelight, away from Katherine as she tended to her armor, away from their tents and the clearing and everything that might keep him safe. He was drawn away from it all, towards the dancing, flickering emerald firelights that had returned, peeking from behind the trees. They shivered in his sight, darting away, yet creeping back as soon as he began to look away.

It was an endearing sight, shy little flames that seemed to beckon him closer. Strange sights, but seeming only friendly to his entranced eyes. It might take his mind of the troubles of this journey, if he got to watch the firelights dance...

So Alexi placed the jar carefully down by the entrance to his tent, and wandered quietly away. In his eyes there reflected nothing but green, unnatural fire, as his every step moved him closer to the dancing wisps that had ensnared him.

[Lillian Thorne]

She made a grunt of annoyance as she worked some of the oil underneath one of the buckles that was just a little tricky to get her fingers under. It was too much effort to fish out a tool and it suited her mood to have something simple, mundane to grumble about. So she worked at it, her tongue caught between her teeth, her brow furrowed in effort. She was deep enough into the annoying, satisfying work when movement registered. Her employer leaving camp. Off to make water no doubt. She didn’t really think about it, but just pushed the oil soaked rag just a little deeper under the buckle, finally growing satisfied with her efforts.

She looked up and noted absently the direction her employer had gone. Into the forest. Why hadn’t he walked along the creek to find a spot for privacy? Case in point why hadn’t he just walked around the tent to piss? She’d made certain it was clear of fire-vine and told him as much. Or had she? Crap. She stood, figuring she’d better stop him before he got himself unlaced, neither of them would want that bit of awkwardness between them. She turned, ready to follow after him, just able to make out the bit of dark in the trees that was moving and occasionally catching bits of firelight on ink stained cloth.

“Sir,” she called, giving him warning she was coming. “You don’t need to go so…”

She trailed off, eyes widening at what she saw beyond him. Moving bits of malevolent green light that seemed to bob and writhe behind the cover of trees a few yards ahead of Alexi. She wasn’t certain but the lights seemed tethered to something, each other perhaps, just beyond her sight. She narrowed her eyes, tilting her head, trying to see what it was she was seeing. Was there something darker past the trees where her employer was heading, some dark mass that could be something? Was there a pattern to the bobbing and weaving? She felt like there might be and tried to catch the pattern as if it would help her identify what it was she was seeing. She took a step towards it, curiosity rising. Then she froze and blinked.

What the fuck?

Glowing green lights in the empty woods with her employer silently drifting towards them and she was wondering what it was she was seeing? Really?

Shame was like a cold bucket of water on her curiosity, dousing it and in its place was a shame-fueled resolve.

“Sir. Sir you need to stop right now!” her words cracked through the night. They should have cut through the night-sounds of animals and insects but they didn’t, because there hadn’t been any. How long had they been silent? Some watch-dog she was.

“Sir!” she shouted again, stooping to pull her sword up from the pile beside where she’d been sitting. Keeping it sheathed she began to run towards her employer, eyes darting from him to the lights, each time she looked at him, it got just a little harder.

[Derren Krenshaw]

He heard Katherine's shout as if from across the sea, an insistent echo vying for his attention against the dancing lights. Katherine, his escort, hired bodyguard. If she was calling out, he needed to pay attention. She was supposed to keep him safe, so there was danger, somewhere, probably.

But the emerald light before him seemed so... safe. Beckoning, whispering, silent words of comfort that pushed Katherine's words further and further away. His mind drifted back even as his feet continued to move forwards, ignoring confusion and concern.

Why did he need to be confused, or concerned? There was no reason for either, not now. He could just follow the lights, let them lead him to warmth and comfort. A small, vacant smile grew on his lips as he watched those flames dance and dart around the trees. They seemed closer now, was he getting closer? Maybe he could catch one, wouldn't that be a tale to tell! The Night I caught a Living Flame... a good enough title for someone like him. He was hoping to hear the various tales and legends of the towns he would visit after Avantshire, he could polish up his tale then! Learn the ways they capture attention and cultivate wonder, to spin his own story that wouldn't be laughed off from the start.

People might actually listen, unlike when he had found the seastars dancing on the foam, had called out to them and heard their silent answer. Coy and captivating little lights, skittish, playful and cruel. It took him back, as he stumbled through the darkening woods. How alike this scene was, to back the-!!

With that thought, the snare shattered. The illusion of warmth and safety with a dancing green flame in hand were dashed away, icy realization dousing all pleasure from his mind. This was like when he was younger. Except he had been an idiot this time, and actually listened to the alluring flames. No wonder Katherine had been shouting at him!

"God's Above!"

He realized just in time... and nearly an instant too late. Blinking fiercely to clear the still-dancing demonwisps from his mind, Alexi stumbled sideways, then down as the ground curved away from him. He fell with a shout, roots and vines tugging at his feet, while blackness rushed up to swallow him from below. Was it just a hill? A cliff? A sinkhole to hell? Between the sunken sun and overwhelming foliage it was impossible to tell, but Alexi swore he saw a grin appear between those verdant flames as he started to fall.

"Watch o-ack!"

He managed, somehow, to snag a root or shrub clinging to the side of the drop and swing himself around. He fell back instead of down, hurled away from the sight and towards the way he had come. A swift, sickening turn landing abruptly in wood and earth as he smacked into the ground. Lights flashed in his vision while pain lanced through head and body. That hurt, he hurt...

Though at least now he wasn't following demonic lights to his doom anymore.

"Katherine... Katherine?" She had called out to him before, had she followed? Words more groan than shout, he could only hope they carried. More than being found, he didn't want her following the lights as well. She was a fighter, and used to travelling, so a pitfall might not catch her, but he wouldn't be able to live with himself if it did. "Are you there...? Watch, watch the ground!"

[Lillian Thorne]

She was an idiot, an absolute idiot to let her guard down, to let him walk away without checking in with him. And then she has to go and get entranced by some floating lights, like some weak-willed fool! Well not entrance, not really, she tried to make the excuse, the shades of failure less but it didn’t stick. She was an idiot and she should have known better.

So busy was she chasing after him, NOT looking at the lights and beating herself up for the degree of her failure that she didn’t quite comprehend what it was she saw when he vanished from her view. She stopped, eyes wide and scanning the underbrush and the cursed shadows that covered everything including whatever it was that was luring them in with its cursed lights. Her employer, Alexi, his friend had called him, was gone. Her knuckles on the hilt of her sword turned white, her stance shifting from a step stopped midway to something more combat ready. One heartbeat, a second and then she heard it, a muffled, pained cry that might well have been her name. She took a step forward, the sound of her own footstep was deafening in the eerie silence of the forest and all the while, just ahead those cursed green lights floated and bobbed. Were they closer? She was afraid to look lest she be snared again.

There.

She heard him call out his warning about the ground. She wanted nothing so much as to bring her gloved hand, palm open smack into her forehead. Of course, the ground. The thing was luring them in, what good was that without a trap to devour them at its leisure.

“On it.” She called to him. It wasn’t like the thing didn’t know it had been seen. She risked a look up and saw that the lights were moving faster, more erratically. Great, the thing, whatever it was, was agitated. So, no sneak attack, she advised her fool self.

She walked with speed and care over towards where Alexi was, uncertain how deep he was in or how hurt he was. “Hold on!” she called as she neared the edge, her eyes still drawing back towards the thing and it’s green lights which whipped around with considerable speed, moving towards her employer at a rate that nearly matched hers.

[Derren Krenshaw]

"I- I am!"

Hearing Katherine helped. Alexi wasn't alone here, lost in the woods with a demon behind him. Katherine was nearby, near enough to hear him, near enough for him to hear her approaching footfalls. That was good, very good. He focused on that, tried desperately to push the lights behind far away, to think only of that.

Katherine was nearby. His escort was getting closer. Help, was here.

Alexi held on to those thoughts, only those thoughts, and pushed himself forwards. He found the ground dangerously sloped and tangled in roots, but climbable, and so he climbed. What had aimed to trip him while he stood now proved to help him as he lay there, hands and feet finding purchase with each move, crawling ever-closer to the sound of Katherine approaching him.

He didn't turn back to risk those verdant flames, didn't dare let himself be trapped again. He didn't see the leathery face illuminated by those writhing lights before it. Katherine's footsteps were before him, and as he scrambled and crawled back up the way he had fallen, Katherine herself was coming into view. Quick and agile despite the treacherous ground, coming to his aid yet again. Of course, she was safety, security, companionship. How had some fel embers managed to deceive him so?

Shaking his head at the thought, Alexi pushed himself up to meet Katherine, safe at last. Relief flooded over his features as he moved to stand, eyes only looking forwards... even as the malformed, snakelike thing surged up behind him.

[Lillian Thorne]

She saw Alexi emerge from the ground where he’d fallen out of the corner of her eyes and felt a great wash of relief cut momentarily through the thin pall of fog that caught her up. She’d been trying to look away from the approaching lights but hadn’t been able to. The speed with which the lights were moving was considerable and she felt the pull of the pattern again. It was only her fear, her natural suspicion that was keeping her from being fully under the spell. She took one hand off her sword to reach for her employer, to help him the rest of the way when the creature-thing-fiend surged up from behind him. She gasped, startled even though her eyes had been on it. It had moved so fast, all pretense with the lights gone in a viciously swift surge.

She stumbled back her sword flashing out at the thing even as she caught her feet. Her battle cry of “Fuuuuck!” rang through the trees and surely inspired confidence in the man she was supposed to protect. She did her best to use the momentum of her stumble to spin off and then slip herself between Alexi and the thing.

The thing lunged at her again, it was a lazy lunge, overconfident she thought as she slashed out with her sword, catching one of the many stalks with the glowing lights at the end. It was used to it’s prey being caught by the patter and though she nearly was, nearly wasn’t close enough. She felt the impact and watched as her well cared for blade parted light from stalk and the thing let out a burbling hiss. The stalk flailed and glowing blood sprayed and spattered from the stump where the light had been. It hit the leaf litter and sizzled and a drop or two hit Katherine’s cheek, the same one with stitches, where it burned like acid. She was going to be such a pretty thing when all was said and done.

She let out another battle cry and swung again.

“Get back!” she screamed to her employer as if he hadn’t the sense to do that on his own.

[Derren Krenshaw]

She did not have to tell him twice.

What growing relief Alexi had felt as Katherine lifted him back up to stand by her was swiftly dashed as she stared at something very much behind him. As she gasped and stumbled back, he shouted and stumbled forwards, her shout perfectly mimicking his own feelings. He hit the ground yet again and rolled, scrambling to gain distance, to get away, to stay safe.

Katherine was behind her, fighting, fending off the... thing, the demon. It was here, of course it was here, whatever hellish being had lured them both over wanted its meal. Both escort and threat were right behind him, the darkening woods closing in all around. Every direction looked the same to his fevered glancing, every shrub and root suddenly seeming that much more dangerous with the sounds of struggle echoing behind. How far had he followed those lights, blindly, absently, looking at nothing else? How many steps, how many turns, climbs and slides had he taken? Where was he, where were they?

How could they get back?

The thoughts gripped his heart with an icy chill, sending Alexi shivering to a nearby tree, clutching at it's rough bark for some sort of reassurance. There was nowhere for him to go, not now. He'd only wander again, with fewer supplies and more danger than before. Hands clutched harder at the tree, eyes finally looking back, to where Katherine had the demon crippled.

Katherine, of course. She could find a way back, she had to know a way back. She just had to rid them of the beast before her, and they would be safe for another few hours.

Alexi clung to the tree, staring out at Katherine and the demon, concern, fear and hope blocking out any chance that last shivering flame had of ensnaring him again. He wasn't a fighter, had no weapon on hand nor courage to use one if he did. So the scribe stayed back, out of the way of his escort, and prayed for her safety.

It was the only thing he could do.

[Lillian Thorne]

She would not have a clear recollection of the battle to retell. She never did, truth be told. A frantic slashing of sword, successful not because of skill but because of relentless practice that made the moves automatic. They were in her blood in her bones so that when she needed them, they were there without thought. Because as she fought the thing, she was well beyond thought and into a place of instinct and frantic survival. She didn’t want to be eaten.

So after the fact, she’d have no tale to tell. The tales were for the singers, like Martin. They could spin a tale, perhaps she’d let him tell this tale because she certainly wasn’t going to. The final blow that felled the creature wasn’t a matter of careful calculation, it was a matter of the creature being more exhausted than she. It was a matter of her being better at not being eaten than it was dealing with prey that fought back. Simple as that. Her blade slid in and it collapsed on it. She fell to her knees because she would not let go of her blade and the weight of it bore her down. She felt it die and it was only when the long, unholy groan finished reverberating up the blade that she relaxed her grip and knelt, hurting.

“Fuck.” She said and hung her head. She wanted to weep. The burning on her cheek was considerable and the surface of her armor was pocked with sizzling glowing spots where the blood of the creature had hit. She needed to clean it off before it ruined her armor. Her armor, never mind her cheek.

There was a moment where she considered the values that led her to hold armor in higher esteem than her face and then throwing back her head she laughed, long and hard she laughed as the cooling body of her demonic opponent seemed to sink in on itself.

Reaching forward and gripping the sword with two hands and employing her feet in the task she wrenched her sword free. An arch of glowing acidic blood spurted out and sprayed across her boots. She grunted in displeasure and turned to find where her employer had got himself too. Except the world kept turning, and turning.

“Oh.” She said stupidly, closing her eyes to make the world stop spinning. “Shit.” She lurched a few feet forward and felt her shoulder smack hard into a sapling. She grunted but welcomed the pain as she grabbed hold of the tree as the whole world upended itself.

“Alexi.” She called, forgetting that she hadn’t been given permission to use the nickname she’d overheard Charles used. “I don’t…” she opened her eyes, trying to find him and then closed them again. “I don’t know that I can get back to camp on my own.”

They hadn’t come far, she reassured herself. She just needed a shoulder and then she’d point him the right way. That’s all.

[Derren Krenshaw]

Alexi prayed. For Katherine's safety, for her skill to outshine that of her infernal opponent, for grace and mercy and everything else he dared hold the audacity to ask for. He begged favor from the Lord of all, groveled against the tree that was his only support and pleaded for what could have been moments or hours. Time faded away, lost amidst the flashes, crashes and cries of Katherine's fight, amidst the darkness and terror and hope it all might sometime end. He didn't care that it faded away, or perhaps he welcomed it. What did time matter, how long had passed or how much was left to pass? As long as they got out okay, time didn't matter.

Alexi's prayer never stopped. Not until the demon finally collapsed, and Katherine rose, laughing victory in the air.

Finally, at last, that the ever-merciful Lord abo-

"Katherine!"

Fear moved his legs then, though he might never find the strength to admit it. That what hope he had might vanish so soon after finally kindling to life was too much for the scribe to bear, sending him scrabbling to his escort's side. Where there more dents in her armor? It was dark, but little spots glowed... wrong, all over her form. Had the demon managed to injure her? He couldn't see any blood or- Her cheek! Where she had been cut before, had it been injured more? It seemed to glow as well, with some... liquid?

"Are you al- No, no why am I asking?" He wanted to smack himself, but instead bunched up the sleeve of his tunic in one hand. He used it to try and brush whatever he thought he saw from her cheek. Her eyes where closed, why were they closed? Breathing, she was breathing, though, that was good. He still couldn't tell what was wrong. Exhaustion? More? It was too dark! The glowing spots seemed wrong, but how could he tell what he was doing- wait, what was he doing? What practice did he have, treating injury? None. None!

You've had practice carrying people home, though.

The simple thought cut through Alexi's crowded mind like the winter wind. Right. He could do some things, at least. There was fire at the camp, more light, more safety. He could do more there, not much, but more. They had to get there first, where was there? Could Katherine lead them? Could he support her? It probably wouldn't be any worse than Charles. At least she wouldn't be fighting him every step, right?

"Like dragging Charles home... right, right." Muttering helped, or seemed to help, or he was going mad. Alexi took Katherine's arm across his shoulders, and worked to help her stand, somehow succeeding. Right. That was done. Now for the next part. "Okay, okay, home... er... camp. Back the way we came... so... this way?"

He took tentative steps, moving simply away from where the demon lay. It was as close to 'the way back' as he knew, so it would have to do for now.

"Which way, do you know the way?" He tried craning his neck to see Katherine's face. Were her eyes open? Was she better? Worse? Dear lord, this was his fault wasn't it? "Sorry- I'm sorry Katherine. We'll get right back to camp, oh Lord I'm sorry."

[Lillian Thorne]

“No.” she murmured, trying to will her head to stop spinning. “S-all right.” She said, reassuring him. She could hear the panic in his voice and wanted to soothe it. They would be all right, unless or course there was another one of those things.

It was a horrible thought, but she was reasonably certain there wouldn’t be. Top chain predators didn’t hang out together. They’d made enough noise that if there were another, it would have shown up by now. She held onto that thought as she sank into Alexi. It was such a relief to not have to stand of her own volition. The tree had been the only thing keeping her upright.

“Like dragging Charles home,” she echoed and tried to picture the ink-stained scribe and his well-to-do-scoundrel of a friend stumbling home. He started to move and she felt the world lurch and shift in a most unwholesome manner. She swallowed hard. The blood or ichor that had spattered her had clearly poisoned her somehow. Was it a way the creature guaranteed nothing fought back? It didn’t matter really the why of it, only that she felt ill and disoriented.

“Don’t touch the ichor.” She cautioned though she’d felt him wiping at her cheek with his sleeve. “It acts fast. I need to wash it off.”

Cautiously she opened her eyes, a gagging noise rose in her throat but she kept her jaw tight and flicked her glance around catching some landmarks. They hadn’t gone far at all. She thought maybe she could see the light of their dying campfire in the distance. But with the world spinning she couldn’t say for certain. She lifted her hand and pointed.

“There. Head that way.” She closed her eyes and let him move her, doing her best to walk but requiring him to bear her weight. She peeked now and again to reorient them, fighting nausea each time. Eventually the light of their campfire was an unmistakable glow in the night.

“Take me right to the stream.” She told him. “I need to wash this shit off.”

[Derren Krenshaw]

"It isn't, it isn't... Lord I'm sorry."

How could Alexi not be? Even injured, barely able to see or stand, Katherine was the only reason either of them made it back to their camp. Somehow, she knew the way in the deepening gloam. Poisoned, too, was that thing's blood poison? He felt like tearing away his sleeve where he had brushed her cheek, but held himself in check. She was managing, somehow, he could deal with a little on the outside of his tunic. He could try and keep something of a level head in return, make sure to help the one who was helping them both.

The fact that what little ichor he had started to mop up before her warning wasn't burning his arm -at least not yet- helped as well. He, he was fine. In perfect health, nothing more than some little scrapes and pains from stumbling through the woods. Not strong, no fighter or sprinter or athlete of any kind, but healthy, at least in body. Katherine needed that, right now. Actually, Katherine needed him healthy in body and mind, right now.

It was the least he could do, do manage that much.

"The stream, yes, yes of course." His eyes wandered to stick on the camp as they moved through it, but he forced his gaze away. The stream, she truly did need to wash all the... ichor, off. If it was dangerous, poisonous, then it was past time it was removed. "I can get there, at least."

Alexi could, at least. The soft burbling song of running water reaching his ears well before the stream itself came into view. It's sound carried far in the quiet stillness, but as he listened for it while they walked, other sounds greeted his ears. Soft chirps, calls, rustles and more, animals at night. Somewhere around them, above them, below them, birds and beasts and insects alike made their presence subtly known. It was... comforting, actually. He was reminded somewhat of the city at night, quieter, but with sound nonetheless. That was a good thing, it helped him calm and focus.

"Okay," Panting, body beginning to grow sore, he carefully lowered Katherine at the water's side at last. He could focus, could think, and that was good. Now then...

"Katherine... Katherine how well can you move?" Eyes straining in the dark, Alexi looked over his escort, trying to judge just how bad things truly were. Her cheek needed attention, the ichor was close to her stitches, and he didn't know what would happen if any managed to get into her blood. That was easy, he could use his own tunic as a rag if needed, carefully wash her skin clean.

But he couldn't ignore the still-glowing spots across her form. Mostly on armor, would it seep through? Should he suggest- did he know enough to suggest? Concern warred with holy teachings in his mind... but he couldn't afford to sit and worry, could he?

"Let's get that off your cheek first, after that..." Alexi was already working his way out of his tunic, keeping care that Katherine did not begin to topple over. "... Your armor, we need to do something about it, right? I can help you wash it off but, well... is it safe to leave on for now?"

[Lillian Thorne]

She groaned when he set her down, keeping her eyes tightly shut. The spinning nausea hadn’t stopped and likely wouldn’t stop for a while. She could hear the stream rushing close by and the sound was the finest music she had ever heard.

“I can move well enough.” She answered through gritted teeth, though it was almost a lie. If he hadn’t dragged her carcass through the woods she’d be lying there still, tripping until who knew when. As it was the little effort she’d had to put forth had done her in.

“I’ll just submerge myself and then after all the shit is washed off I’ll need to take the armor off. It’s got to dry. Fuck, I just got the chest piece too. Well it did its job I suppose.”

There would be too much fumbling with buckles that lay near leather spattered with the ichor, she didn’t want to risk contact with it for either of them. The last thing she needed was a disoriented Alexi to tend to when she didn’t know which way was up. She swallowed hard, fighting back the nausea and forced herself to move.

“Just point me in the right direction and make sure if I go under I eventually come up.” She followed that with a gravely, graveyard chuckle as she began to crawl towards the stream. Because dignity be damned.

She lowered herself into the water, the moment she felt the cool rushing wet on fingers and the smooth pebbles sunk into mud. The water rushed over her face, the relief from the burning on her skin was immediate though her dizziness was unaffected. But then she really hadn’t expected it to. Finding her way to the surface, even from the shallow edge was harder than it should have been and she was near panic when it was managed, either through her own efforts or with help from her employer. Gasping for air she tried her sight again and found it still spinning. She cursed under her breath, unsurprised, and began to rub her hands over the soaked leather that covered her body. She sluiced it off, peeking every now and again to see if she had missed any of the glow and when she was satisfied she called for Alexi to help her back to the fire. There was no way she was going to make it on her own.

“I’m sorry to ask this.” She said as he helped her along. “But I need you to get the armor off of me. I’m not going to be able to manage. But first thing, go change your shirt. Then we’ll hang this stuff to dry and see how things stand in the morning.”

She cocked her head and listened to the night sounds around them, feeling a little bit of relief that they would likely be left alone most of the night. She hoped.

[Derren Krenshaw]

Alexi couldn't quite share Katherine's grim mirth at her current state, though at the same time he couldn't help but be impressed by it. She was managing, despite the obvious pain. Was it a part of being a mercenary? Was she used to injury? He certainly wasn't, and had little way of telling just how bad off she was right now. Talking, moving, not bleeding... all good things, at least.

"This way, yes, careful," She seemed determined to make her own way to the stream, and he didn't dare challenge that choice. Her decision to submerge herself completely? That was... worrying. But he had helped her up before, and could do it again, at least enough to keep her from drowning. So if she thought this was the best way to wash the ichor from her armor, he'd give her some time in the river, standing right nearby.

And a good thing, too, as her calm -if labored- efforts before turned into frantic scrambling to escape the water's grasp. He was there, able to help her, able to get her back to camp. That was something, at least.

"Ask what you need," He said the words without thinking, and found no reason to regret them. Helping Katherine settle down beside the fire, he took leave briefly, setting his previous shirt down on the ground and retrieving one fresh from his tent. Katherine was going to need something different, something dry to wear herself, or at least something to help keep her warm. Though... again... not something he was sure how to approach. He decided to stick with her directions, upon returning.

"Alright, ah, I might need some direction..." A quick glance over her armor gave him a decent idea of how it was applied, the buckles and straps seeming apparent enough. But he hadn't done much with armor, at all. This outfit, these pieces, they were hers. He didn't want to somehow damage them -if that was possible- through clumsiness. He didn't want to cause her further discomfort, either. "This strap pulls... ah! Yes, okay, I... think I see?"

Carefully, Alexi worked to help Katherine out of her armor. He would have liked to claim it was a quick affair, not dragged out at all by his inexperience, but that would be lying. Too many second-guesses, to many unsure movements, how quickly could Katherine have done this herself, had she been healthy? He tried not to think on that.

"Okay, okay, finally..." He moved the pieces of her armor carefully away, hanging them up on the opposite side of the fire as best he could manage. The flames would help dry them, surely, so long as the skies decided to remain clear tonight. "None of that... stuff... got through your armor, did it?" He glanced quickly about her body, taking care not to let his eyes linger. Katherine needed to know none of the ichor was left around, not to be looked up by him, though no glowing liquid could be seen. The stream had done its job in washing it all away, it seemed, if any had gotten past her armor in the first place.

"Do you feel... any better at all?" He sat beside her before the fire, glad for both light and warmth. She had to be doubly glad, at least, her clothes clinging to her as they dripped water. He kept his eyes to her face, as if he might read into her health somehow. "Your cheek, do you feel any pain there? Or... any more pain, than the stitches might have been causing?"

[Lillian Thorne]

She wasn’t sure if it was wishful thinking or fact that her head felt a trifle better. She cracked her eyes open a little when asked and watched the world and Alexi spin for her efforts. She grunted and quickly closed them and took stock of her hurts. Her armor was good, very good, the best she could afford and she took very good care of it. It had kept her from a great many cuts from her recent battles and while it could absorb some of the impact, it couldn’t absorb all. She would ache come morning, but then she ached most mornings. Her cheek was another matter. It hurt, a lot and she was pretty certain it was more than just the relatively fresh stitches having been tugged.

“No, I think I’m fine, or at least intact.” She reached to touch the spot on her cheek where the blood had hit skin and winced. The skin was raw, feeling like a burn that was deep enough it would take a bit to blister. Though she’d washed the gunk off, it had clearly done its work with how her head spun and her skin hurt. She was going to be such a pretty thing, she reflected bitterly.

“This is going to scar, isn’t it?” she asked and then chuckled wryly. “There was something in the blood, it must be some sort of defense mechanism. Renders any prey capable enough to hurt it, immobile or something. My head is spinning, a lot. It’s better when I shut my eyes but it isn’t gone.”

She shivered, the side of her facing the fire was almost comfortable but the rest was chilled from the wet under tunic and breeches that clung to her skin. Shivering and head spinning was a wretched combination that she would not even wish on her worst enemy.

“By the gods I wish I’d at least have had the fun of drinking myself into this state.”

Speaking of which, she felt for her belt and the pouch that kept her flask and realized it was up hanging with her armor.

“I need my medicine kit from my tent, a clean shirt, breeches and socks, all will be found in my bags, and before that, if you could get me my flask I will be forever grateful. It is in the pouch on my belt.”

That is if the river hadn’t washed it away. She prayed it hadn’t or come morning she’d miss the spins for the headache that was going to settle in.

“You are going to have to help me change too, so you’ll probably need the flask as well.” Self-depreciating humor, it helped to hide how very wretched she felt.