War and Peace and Pancakes

Pancakes and Bubble Gum

The unfamiliarity of where she was overwhelmed her mind's attempts to remember an explanation as she woke up from her healing sleep. How long she had been under was impossible to tell, though by the tremor of her low simmering power as she became more aware of things, she would guess not very long. Her body still ached, she still had bruises and wounds, though they were healed.

The burn of venom no longer raced through her body. Though sunlight flickered over her face, drawing Urdu to open her eyes, frowning at the window with blinds that didn't fully block out the sunlight. Her cave didn't have blinds. It didn't have windows, and it definitely did not have this bed or the hello kitty mug filled with water on a bedside table beside another cup filled with flowers.

Urdu rolled towards the edge of the bed, or had started to when she felt a hand grab her shoulder to hold her in place. She grabbed it and shifted, throwing the person over top of her, finding herself rolling and hitting the floor, hissing in pain as she glared down at her attacker. Timothy glared right back up at her, his teeth bared. It would seem that this would be one of those kinds of discussions.

She remembered now.

Samantha and him finding her in her home. They must have brought her back her with them after she fell unconscious once more. She shifted up and away from him, frowning down at the clothing she was wearing. A tank top and small pair of shorts, both bright pink, covered in a white and pink cat that she had seen somewhere else though couldn't quite place.

"Sam asked Baltha to bring you some clothing. Judging by how much he was snickering about it and the look on your face, those aren't yours, are they?" Tim pulled himself up, making a face and reaching over to adjust the blinds, putting them into darkness before he lifted himself off the floor then reached down to help her up.

"No. These definitely are not mine." She looked at his hand for a moment, narrowing her eyes, "I'm fine."

"You're still very injured." Tim was stubborn, growling at her.

"Why am I here?" She wasn't about to get into it with him. She was still far too injured to feel comfortable being around other people, but here she was, accepting his hand, only to find him shifting to pick her up and put her back onto the bed instead of letting her pull herself to her feet. "I'm not invalid."

"You have barely stirred in days. Sam can only spend a few hours with you before she gets tired. You've been pulling energy out of her while you sleep." It was an accusation, laced with worry.

Urdu scowled at him, "which just proves my point that I should be back in my home, sleeping this off on my own."

"I wasn't leaving you there to possibly bleed to death." He snapped, growling right back at her, "That wound seeped poison for several days, I changed the bandages every few hours. It would have festered."

"I would have been fine. I was fine." She levelled a glare at him and though he shifted ever so slightly under her gaze, he didn't back down. She wondered if this was a sign that whatever they had was done. She wanted desperately to just leave, but even as she reached for her power to do just that, she felt the Witch's wards around the home shimmer stubbornly. "Tell Samantha to let me go."

"No." It wasn't a pout this time, it was an actual glare, though she caught a hint of panic, "don't you god damned dare try to leave. Sam would never forgive you. I would never forgive you."

Urdu clenched her jaw, biting back to wave of guilt, trying to hold on to the anger, even as the aches from her injury started to wear it down. "I don't need to be cared for."

"How is it that you've lived for so long, and you're so stupid? You going off on your own was a rookie mistake! Getting yourself injured like that! And now you think you can just survive on your own, injured like this?" The anger was beginning to boil over, Timothy was in fine form and just getting started.