<span style="font-family:Philosopher">Avi grasped his coat from the elf, fitting his arm through its sleeves as he shook his head. He could feel some residual warmth emanating from the fabric, causing some warmth to rush to his cheeks. “<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">Where are you going</span>…” his voice trailed off as he watched the elf approach the treeline and disappear into its depths. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000"><i>Is she suicidal</i></span>? The mercenary almost ran after her, but stopped himself. The elves were a peculiar people, filled with mystery and magic. Whatever business she had within the Groves was none of his concern, so long as it doesn’t come back to bite him in the ass. Avi lumbered over to the smoldering remains of his campfire, brushing some gravel away to reveal its fading embers. He brooded in silence, allowing his body to relax and come down from its adrenaline-filled high. <br/>
<br/>
He furrowed a brow as a dull pain emerged from his chest, the sensation growing more and more prevalent as time went on. Instinctively, he put a hand to his pec, his eyes going wide when he saw a deep red sticking to his palm. The pain became glaringly apparent; a burning sensation that streaked across his body and left him in a state of shock. He reeled back in surprise, ripping at his clothes in a frenzy. He inhaled sharply as his coat fell to the ground, revealing a crimson line of shredded fabric and flesh that spanned across his chest, his blood steadily running down his torso as it glistened in the moonlight. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000"><i>The wolves</i></span>. He thought, watching as the thin line turned into a large splotch of red. This was something he could slap a bandage on and call good. Panic coursed through his veins as Avi pressed a hand the wound, digging through his pack for something, <i>anything</i>, to help dam the laceration. His head spun as he pried open his bag, his vision blurring as he rummaged through his belongings as more and more blood seeped through his clothes and into the earth. A sense of dread filled his body when he came up empty.<br/>
<br/>
“</span><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(179, 0, 0)"><span style="font-family:Philosopher">Fuck</span></span><span style="font-family:Philosopher">!” he cursed, slamming his fist into the ground. </span><i><span style="font-family:Philosopher"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">I</span><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ffffff">’</span><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">m gonna die here</span></span></i><span style="font-family:Philosopher">. For a second, he resigned himself to such a fate: bleeding out in some foreign forest, cold and alone. He pulled out his dagger, staring at himself in its reflection. “</span><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(179, 0, 0)"><span style="font-family:Philosopher">Pitiful</span></span><span style="font-family:Philosopher">,” he murmured, casting his gaze to the simmering embers, an idea coming to mind as he poked at the embers. Like most of his plans, it was dangerous and </span><span style="font-family:font1522365474">unnecessarily idiotic</span><span style="font-family:Philosopher">. If he messed up, he would die. If he passed out from pain, he would die. And even if the procedure worked, and he miraculously sealed the wound, the infection that would set in afterwards would <i>definitely </i>kill him. </span><i><span style="font-family:Philosopher"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">Better later than now</span></span></i><span style="font-family:Philosopher">. Avi shoved his dagger into the remains of the fire. He counted in his head to thirty before shoving a twig in his mouth and biting down, pulling out the blade and pressing its length to his exposed flesh. A muffled cry escaped his lips as sizzling reached his ears, a nauseating smell of burnt flesh filling his nose as tears welled in his eyes. Agony filled his body as he writhed on the ground, his back arching, eyes widening as the pain washed over him in torturous waves of what felt like hell. Darkness crept at the edges of his vision before he removed the metal from his skin and stabbed the dagger into the earth, letting a slew of muted profanities emerge from his throat. Avi spat out the piece of wood, glaring at his teeth marks as his lungs heaved and gasped for air. Quickly, he put a finger to his chest. His winced at the pain, but sighed a breath of relief as his finger came back dry. He laid on his back for a few minutes, letting the pain reside as the cool breeze washed over his skin. All he needed now was to patch the cauterized flesh with gauze, of which was with...<br/>
<br/>
<i>Naya</i>. <br/>
<br/>
The elf reemerged from the wooded depths. “<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">Naya</span>,<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000"> I need the</span>-” Avi’s voice died in throat. She had a different look on her face. Her fingers were bloodied and red, a portion of her shirt torn and splattered with gore. He glanced at the gauze he gave her. The roll was definitely smaller, almost completely gone. He narrowed his eyes, his brows coming together as he glared at her. If he recalled correctly, the girl didn’t engage the wolves in close quarters, blade in hand like he did. She had no reason to have blood on her figure, be it the beasts’ or her own. Avi’s mind raced as it searched for answers, his jaw tightening as it came to one: Naya helped the wolves.<br/>
<br/>
The mercenary shot his gaze away as the elf approached him, his fingers clenching into a fist. The beasts were the ones that engaged <i>him</i>. They were the ones who cornered him, attacked him, cut deep into his flesh. He barely managed to stay <i>alive</i>, much less fix his wounds. And the girl had the audacity to use <i>his </i>supplies to help them? Avi felt like he’d been slapped across the face and shoved into the dirt. Resentment burned in his gut as the girl’s words reached his ears. He wanted to snap at her; spite her for being so ignorant to his own wounds. But he didn’t. Again, he let his anger seep out of his through his teeth in the form of a sigh. Scolding the girl wouldn’t do any good, at least for now. He would tolerate her, not because he was a nice person or because he pitied her - and definitely not because he forgave her - but because he needed that cure. But first, he needed to stay alive. <br/>
<br/>
Avi cleared his throat and tried again. “<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">Naya</span>,<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000"> I</span>’<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">m going to need that gauze</span>.” He stood up, revealing the newly formed long, jagged scar across his chest. Fresh blood managed to leak through the corners of the wound, but nowhere close to the torrent that bled earlier. “<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">I can manage it myself</span>, <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">but we</span>’<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">re going to need to go to a city to resupply and get this taken care of</span>,” he said, trying to keep his voice level despite the throbbing pain coming from his chest. <i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">I</span><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ffffff">’</span><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">m a fucking idiot</span></i>. He thought. Would she really help him now that he revealed that he was mortally wounded? If he was in her shoes, he would run away in the dead of the night, leave all the problems behind. He let out a low groan as he sat down, his eyes fixated on the orange glow of the remaining embers. “<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">Try to get some sleep tonight</span>. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">We set foot towards Tel</span>’<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">arin tomorrow</span>.” He glanced at the roll of gauze before raising his gaze to the elf. She was beautiful in all respects. Brilliant eyes, soft features, and a body any man would lust for. <br/>
<br/>
“<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">I suppose we</span>’<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">re going to sleep without a fire then</span>?” Avi wretched his gaze away and poked at the embers with his sword. The fire was dead. To rekindle it meant going back into the forest for wood -- something he shuddered at the thought of. He reached over to his pack and unfastened a small roll, revealing a small blanket made of animal skin. “<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">Here</span>, <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">it's gonna get colder tonight</span>. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">it</span>’<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">s a bit small</span>, <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">but it</span>’<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">ll keep you warm</span>.” </span>