Post by Lyric Shikov on Apr 22, 2013 22:47:51 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 500px; height:615px; background-image:url(http://oi47.tinypic.com/2zf1mia.jpg)] "Remind me--Ugh." Lyric groaned, and would have finished his sentence, but the jostling motions of the horse under him were rather unpleasant. He gripped onto the mane of the other Carna and focused on not puking. The thoroughbred dipped and rocked, dipped and rock, and Lyric felt increasingly sick. He was going to say, he thought, something like remind me not to be stupid, ever again. But then he almost did vomit from the motions and the pain, so he decided to focus on his breathing instead. Some time later, the Scout dragged him into the Sewers, with even more jostling than before. Lyric was lucky that Reb was a bigger man, because he was cradling Lyric in his arms like a kid, something that would have struck his pride in another situation. But instead he was dipping in and out of consciousness, waves of pain cascading through him, making his teeth clench an grind with each step that Reb took. He was distinctly aware of the sound of the footsteps, and then nothing. The next time he woke up, he was laying on a cot. Not a comfortable one, either, but one that felt like it had a bar through the center and probably did. Lyric cracked open his eyes and peered at the ceiling, smelling the dank odor of the sewers and the smell of his own coppery blood. He was also aware of being thirsty--and, even though that took priority--he noticed the sound of voices. "He's in rough shape, but you're one of the only Medics here right now. You can patch him up, right, Deacon?" There was a subtle challenge there, but Lyric didn't recognize the speaker's voice. He strained his ears, ignoring the throbbing of his wounds. He couldn't catch the sound of Deacon's reply, but it wasn't exactly pleased. Lyric watched impassively as the medic stepped into the dim room. He noted, now, that it was only lit by a a single (albeit relatively bright) electric lantern and there were some rows of cots to each side of him, against the wall. He didn't say anything to the other Carna. Instead, Lyric tried to remember what had happened, and only came up with pits and pieces--the Fulsi that they had run into when looking for a supply drop in Delica park, and the fact that one of them had happened to be a damn grizzly. Oh, yeah. He remembered very clearly now. The claws that shredded his chest (which was now a bloody mess) and the sheer strength that had sent him flying head over heels into a nearby tree. He didn't know how he managed to stand and zap the damn thing long enough that another one of the Carna could kill him. "It was a mama bear," he admitted, although it was a complete lie. The bear had been male, and had had no children, and was also a shifter. But Lyric didn't crack a smile or twitch in the cheek to show that it was a bit of an exaggeration. "Just kidding. But... injuries. Shredded my chest, obviously." He had noted, by now, that his shirt was removed an the skin of his chest was a mess of blood and pain. He swallowed and tried to ignore it. "Um. Might have fractured something. Threw me against a damn tree. I don't know. Fractured knuckles, too. Concussion?" He flexed his right hand, and after feeling the abrupt shock of pain through his fingers, stopped. Yes. Knuckles it is. His bones were so brittle by now that he figured they might crack if he tried to open a can of soda. The Delta didn't know what else to say, and quite frankly he didn't have the breath to do it. So he regarded this Medic with feral yellow eyes, waiting for some rely, all the while trying not to look too pitiful. He hated injuries. |
