ain't no sunshine [P] May 18, 2016 17:01:52 GMT -5
Post by Cezar Stark on May 18, 2016 17:01:52 GMT -5
The feel of blood smooth on his tongue and slick between his teeth as it slid down the back of his throat was familiar. The pain, quick and sharp with each breath was too. He had known blood and pain and fear. He had known it always, since childhood. He was used to it, either giving or receiving. But Costin had always been there to show him the way, to show him that it was just blood, it was just pain, but there was no fear when you were the strongest one. He drew in a shallow, uneven breath, a low whisper of a whine slipping from his throat as he clutched as his ribs, likely broken. It’s only blood, only pain. No fear, no fear … No Costin.
He was curled on the grimy floor, arms wrapped around his torso to keep his warmth from seeping into the cold stone beneath him. He tried to shift to keep warm, but he couldn’t muster the strength to stay in his wolf form longer than a few minutes. He also couldn’t move his arm very well and it hurt like hell each time he’d tried to shift. So he’d just given up and left himself to shiver, just like he always did. Costin would’ve been strong enough. He thought. I am too weak. It’s a wonder he didn’t leave sooner.
He felt a sob coming and tried to choke it back, knowing it would be too painful. He clenched his teeth, blood seeping from his lips as the gash on his tongue opened wider. “It’s just blood,” he sputtered through bloodsoaked teeth. “It’s just pain. N-no ... No f ... ear.” He could get through this. He would. And then he would find Costin. But he wasn’t even sure where he himself was, somewhere where the orășeni lived. He and Costin called them that, the cityfolk, because they could never remember what the Carna called them. He was somewhere in their territory, locked behind bars. They’d cornered him on a farm (in the city!) when he’d tried to eat a couple of the chickens. He was only looking for Costin, and had gotten hungry. He hadn’t wanted any trouble. But they attacked him because he smelled like the Carna. So he did what Costin had taught him, used his teeth and claws. And he’d ended up here in their prison, half dead and freezing.
The wolf wasn’t sure how long he’d been here, probably more than a few hours. He’d been unconscious for most of it, but he was still bleeding when he’d woken. He’d heard voices and footsteps down the corridor, but his back was to the cell door and he was starting at the wall. He didn’t want to see who was coming. “Don’t move, Carna.” A woman spoke, and he could hear the strength in her words. He remained motionless save for the rapid rise and fall of his chest. He heard the jangle of metal, the groaning of the old door as it swung open. He could feel the weight of her in her footsteps as she approached him, nearly screamed as she pressed a boot into his broken ribs. He managed to choke it back to just a strangled gasp as she flipped him onto his stomach.
“Hands,” She barked. He could only move one arm, the other only jerked shakily as he tried to move them to the center of his back. She yanked the other one into place to bind his hands, and this time he did scream. Blood oozed from his mouth as he cried out, nearly losing consciousness from the flash of pain. “Shit,” she said with a sigh, and it almost sounded apologetic. She let his broken arm be and simply tied his good arm to a couple of the bars with rope and bound his feet together at the ankles. She helped him sit up against the bars. He was too weak to hold his head up, so it lolled to the side and rested on his shoulder. His hair was matted with sweat and blood and had fallen into his eyes. “Medic’s comin’ to see you, Carna. If you keep in line, you’ll get some water.” He peered up at her, vision blurred from the tears in his eyes. The woman just shook her head and left him for the medic.
notes | Evkav