It was with an outcry of agony that Ceiro woke from the painless bliss of unconsciousness. He could not see how light the sky was, could not feel his sister’s gentle yet urgent touch. But he could feel the piercing rays as they burned him in the early morning light. He hissed, clawing his way away from where he had been, feeling around on the ground for shadows and shade. He knew where he’d fallen, could feel the gentle way the ground sloped up beneath him. He finally found the stone cliff face, still shaded from the rising sun. but it wouldn't be for long. He could not stand, could barely move, dragging himself a few inches at a time along the ground. Eventually he found a spot where it dipped down, hoping for an overhang. He was luckier than he’d expected to be, but unlucky too. With another sharp cry, the ground gave way and he fell a few feet, impacting the bottom of some kind of hole.<br/><br/>His fingers found the wall and he collapsed against it. Breathing felt like fire entering his lungs, a broken rib cutting into his chest as he heaved. But he still wasn’t safe. He needed to be deeper. Only adrenaline fueled him now, pushing him forwards into the cave, slipping a few more times, but no falls. He could smell blood, knowing he was exposed. He tried once more to call upon his heritage, to throw up the wards that would protect him. But the magic did not answer his call. He could not even open the earth to receive him. At least it was dark, and away from the sun. He clawed frantically at the ground, trying to create some kind of depression, his mind clouded and running on pure instinct. Dirt. in wounds; Man. in ground. Fingers bleeding and raw, he curled up in the shallow hole, slowly letting unconsciousness take him once more.<br/><br/>He had to live. For Valla. If nothing else, he did not want to be the reason his beloved little sister wept.<br/><br/>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br/><br/>When he finally woke, it was night, or so he assumed. His body told him it was, at the very least. Every part of him ached and burned, though a little less, the rejuvenating soil helping heal him where his magic would not. But it wasn’t enough. He needed blood. He tried to reach out once more, for any mind. But he was met with only silence. His eyes burned as though he’d spent the day staring at the sun, though nothing could be further from the truth. Only than did he realize why he’d woken, picking up on subtle sounds. Someone… something was approaching. He struggled to sit up, grunting and groaning, pressing himself against the wall. He found a rock and gripped it tightly, prepared to fight for his life if he had to.