The Curse

fourteen

Sorry for a repetition of the same POV it'll go right back to normal soon (?) (we gettin angsty)

Schlatt's POV

The boy rolled over onto his stomach, and tried to pull himself forward and out of the support that I was offering again; I know it hurts him, but the least he could do is cooperate with me here. Pulling the wood out of his tail hurt me, but I am sure that it hurt him more than myself. It was a more mental effect for me, while I'm sure that pulling driftwood out of your tail (legs?) doesn't feel too physically appealing.

I drag my hand over his hip, rolling him back onto his back, and with his movements he was wiggling himself deeper into the wet sand. At some point of him doing this it was going to get harder for me to wrap at his tail. Oh, I didn't have a wrap, and the only possible thing that I could use was drenching my shirt into the saltwater and wrapping it around the tail, and using some docking rope I found in the rocks to wrap around. Similar to a skirt, with a cushion.

"I know it hurts, Wil, but you pulling away over and over is going to make it hurt more." I huff, having to slam his hip back down into the sand. This time I rose a knee and placed it onto his chest as I fumbled with the rope, trying to tie it around his tail. It would be around where his lower thigh would be; if he was human.

"You laying me down in the sand isn't doing me any better, you flipping blowhole!"

I couldn't help but smile, at someone who cant mutter the words 'fucking' and 'asshole'.

"ARE YOU LAUGHING AT ME?" His tail lifted again, and I dropped the rope. The wound was opened again and started to bleed through the shirt.

"Stop moving."

He shook his head and sat upright. "I'll heal on my own."

I sat myself upright and sighed. I hadn't noticed until now that the rain had gotten heavier, and the water was starting to close around the cove. The tide was coming up, quickly.

"If you can heal yourself, then just go back home, wherever that is."

Wil's eyebrows furrowed together, he looked like he was trying to form a thought, and word it through. He sat upright and slowly pulled his tail into a hug.

"I don't wanna."

"You can't just sit here and wait for something to heal, something that is gushing out blood and staining the sand red.

"Okay, but I heal quickly, I will be fine."

I shake my head and stand myself up, getting up and walking over to the rocks but I was stopped by a dragging sound. Turning around, Wil stopped dragging himself towards me.

"I am sorry, it just hurts..."

"Do you want me to try again, without you fighting back this time?" I asked, facing him and bending down, my elbows over my knees. The boy nodded and faceplated his head into the sand. I smiled, looking at his soaking wet feature just laying there in the sand, and then the rising waters; they lingered for something, and they pulled with a strong tug. What a taunt.

I stand myself up, getting my shirt and the rope, and again, I place a gentle hand over Wilbur's hips to roll him over and place the shirt up his tail like a skirt that'll end at the middle of his tail. I take the tope, making a small knot, and sliding his tail through it before wrapping it around. He gave a few flinches but stopped calling out or lashing out. "Suddenly it doesn't hurt as much?"

"I told you I could heal it myself."

"Okay, well there, you're patched up."

Wil lifted his head and tail, looking back at himself over the shoulder but he just laid back down, relaxing into the sand. He isn't scared of the water, the water is his home. The water is where he lives, but despite living in a whole new world, he isn't scared of the land. He lays in the sand like it's his own personal home. The thought makes me burrow into my own thoughts.