[2] WEEPING MONK║you're not what I was looking for

43| Thicker Than Water - 𝐈𝐈

[TW// blood, injury, grief, intoxication.]

Chaos descends upon the forest and Ari is forced to take drastic measures. Lancelot finds himself in a sticky situation.

Winds howled and whistled suddenly, disturbing the thick, putrid stench and offering no relief to his worry. No, no, no, no, no. Lancelot snapped his face to the brunette, "Did my brother go with you?"

"The one without the tears?"

He stepped impatiently above her, and it was most definitely a threat when his voice flared like a spark off of flint, "Answer me!"

"Lance-" Ari wrapped her hand around his sleeve to pull him back and soothe the storm but he did not move.

Red stared up to his whirlwind eyes growing increasingly sickened with self-torture the longer that she was indignant in her silence. Putting the man out of such misery, she sighed, though it was not the answer that he probably was wishing to receive, "He was with us, I have not seen him."

For a moment, Lancelot did not hear her words or anything else for that matter, his hood blocking out all noise which surrounded him. The woman's blood trickled like a tear down from his palm along the pads of his middle finger, tickling his senses as it rolled down his skin to a point on his fingertip where it sat, collecting and welling until heavy enough to drop to the ground. Hector, was his only thought.

Abandoning what he had started in helping the injured raider, Lancelot strode off immediately out along the way that they had all returned from, following the trails of dripping blood and the mixed in scents of human and Fey alike. Hector, find Hector, he powered between the tents, searching, find Hector.

Ari moved half a step but got no further and was left gaping, her heart telling her to chase after him as she just watched his billowing figure growing smaller and smaller into the distance of the forest. He would not rest until his brother was found and she knew it. And if he had not returned? ... Her breaths were shaking as she cast her eyes back to the injured raider.

Her friend knew the queen's secret worry, the true reason for that fear within her eyes. "Go," Red pushed out weakly, seeing her friend's unspoken dilemma as she tilted her chin in the Ash man's direction, "he will need you."

Swallowing down her fret, Ari gestured to Red's injury, "Keep pressure on that." The Red Spear barely completed a nod before the Sunborn turned on her heels and briskly raced to catch up to him, ignoring the stares and shouts as she moved.

His cloak was still billowing, his head up from what she could tell. "Lance, slow down," she begged, stepping in behind him though it was hard to keep up with the rate that his boots were treading over the wet ground.

"I cannot find him," Lancelot panicked, eyes not stopping in searching the tents and trails, "his scent is nowhere- he must be here."

"Lance-" Ari implored, reaching for his arm but he shrugged her off.