Slowly but steadily she awakened in his arms, the soft breathe of air brushing over her soaked robes, covered with slime and blood. Her memory was fading, and for a moment she didn't knew where she was, until she felt his strong arms around her. Him, he who she had seen fight and kill ever so swiftly, he who had completely got her off guard, and stabbed by an enemy, something that had never happened to her before.<i>Neither being carried in one and another's arms,</i>she thought for a moment.<br/><br/>Looking up to his chin, she felt safe and guarded on his chest, her head resting on the many cloaks that covered his broad arms. At that very moment she could smell the scent, of horrid sludge and ooze they had carried out of the sewers, but making up something else as well, herbs and flowers.. Potions and alchemist vials, she could even feel them as she was pressed tightly against his body. The sudden realisation of that fact made her flutter her eyelashes in shame, but somehow she knew he hadn't notice her awakening yet. Trying to move her fingers she felt the aching pain of very rare burning feeling upon her skin. And with every breath she took in her lungs, a habit she still refused to give up ever since she died, she could feel the painful puncture of the stabwound within her body. It should have killed her, but somehow her foggy mind could not recollect what had happened in those moments after she was struck down by the gnome. There was a faint memory of light, but she couldn't believe in her own abilities to heal herself once being wounded as heavily as she was.<br/><br/>Moving her soft blueish leather-stitched fingers over his cloaked arms she tried to alert him about her. He seemed to bringing her somewhere, and well she wasn't used to being out of control of what happened. Somewhere in the back of her mind she was still fearful about strangers, eventhough he made her feel completely different. Caressing him with her fingers, she softly prodded in his remaining flesh she looked up with her big bright yellow orbs, trying to figure out what to say. But he was making her feel out of place, bringing back memories of a time long ago... When she was carried quite the same way, by a man she loved more then anything in the world. Though in her memory, her breathing and laughing still required oxygen, as for now.. She was being carried as dying dreadful corpse covered in blood and slime...<br/><br/>"You never really told me your real name..." Her voice was like a whisper, still broken by the pain she was enduring but somehow she had managed to bring back her witty attitude in her words. It was a way of telling him she was doing fine, although it didn't look like it.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>