The Stray

Scars, Pt. 1

The cliffside was empty and grey as ever. Howling winds pounded and ground at it, lesving the hard surfwce covered in burnt and bleached grit. The winds blew and faded like breath in a rotten lung. The sky was green.

Timothy's legs dangled off the edge. His brand burned on his forehead. He felt a pull, like something inside the pit was pulling him in by the head. But there was nothing inside the pit, a nothing so profound and deep that it seemed to suck in all heat, all life. He'd often wondered what would happen if he let it take him, too, but he'd never had the guts. It'd been close, though.

He sat there for a long time, the cold wind roaring, staring into the abyss.

———

Pain and noise. That's what met him when the cliff faded. "I don't care if the queen of all dragons vouches for him! Question him, and have him cuffed, damn it!"

Shadows, it hurt. His hearing was dull and flat, and the angry voice stabbed them cruelly. And then another one piped up. "Look, my sister told you everything already. Lay off, will ya?" Her voice... it ground with frustration, but it was familiar...

"Are you forgetting that your sister caused all this!? And that idiot's an accomplice!"

Timothy felt drier than old jerky, and about as alive. A long, hoarse breath pulled free from his throat. His eyes cracked open, and it was like ripping stuck parchments apart. Everything was blurry. His everything hurt. His chest, his arm, all of it throbbed as he struggled against his own miniscule weight. Where am I...? The wolf felt cool sheets beneath him. A bed, thicker and more comfortable than anywhere he'd ever slept. All around it were pale curtains, on rolling stands. The air smelled of burned fur, alchemical medicines, and dragon. And anger, a lot of it. He could barely move his head.

He blinked his dry eyes, and the world slowly got clearer. The room was lit brightly, so he could make out two silhouettes through the drawn curtains. A woman so huge she could only be Valencia, standing at attention but in a sagging, exhausted way. He thought she was still in her armor. She was facing someone else: another woman, from the voice, tall and lean for a kindre. The other woman held what was clearly a fighting staff before her, and judging from her stance she was barely holding back from using it. Timothy tensed at the sight, and wow, did that hurt.

Am I a prisoner...? He thought sluggishly. His pulse barely quickened in his exhaustion. I can't move.... But I'm not tied down, I think... his eyes moved like slugs in bowls, slipping to his body. What he saw shocked him, even through his exhaustion. There shoulda been mortal wounds where the lightning had struck. Instead, his body looked whole. Well, mostly. His arm and chest were intact, but bare of fur, revealing tender, thin pink skin. He looked like if he was poked too hard he'd bleed out, but it was still whole. He'd been stripped of his outerwear, leaving him in his loincloth, and so even his legs were treated in a few places the lightning had lashed with fingers. Mandible, normally strapped to his chest, was gone. The fresh skin was covered in a thick green paste, which smelled strongly alchemical. They healed me...?

Valencia stomped her foot, pulling his weary eyes back to her. "Don't talk about my sister like that!" She growled. Urgency was slowly flooding Timothy's veins, like fire and ice brewed together. Have to stay awake. No candles inside the curtains. I can see them, but they can't see me. There were no windows inside his curtains. He barely stopped himself from chuckling— Yeah, you're gonna escape out a window right now. That'll happen.

"Bring her into this?" The older woman hissed. "Your fool of a sister burned down the Deepshadow! Her little adventure's put us all at risk!" He couldn't just lie here... he patted himself down quietly, hoping for any of his gear to be around. But duh, they wouldn't leave him anything else useful. Mandible couldn't get to him. Magic...? He turned his palm up in bed, and tried to make a sliver of darkness. The effort sent a spike of pain through his bones that knocked what little wind he had right out of him. That's when he saw Valencia's large ears twitch in his direction, and her head half-turned his way. Frass! Timothy didn't dare breathe. She heard me!