Author: Meta Ray Mek PM
Karu-Sil and Romat-Ru almost come to an understanding about the nature of a pack.Rated: Fiction K - English - Words: 619 - Reviews: 1 - Favs: 2 - Follows: 1 - Published: 08-11-12 - Status: Complete - id: 8419701
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Karu-Sil dragged a finger through the pool of blood on the window's ledge. Holding it level to her mouth, she flicked her tongue across, muttering something to herself about its coppery taste. If she could smile -and given she had no lips whatsoever-, she likely would have out of a smug sense of satisfaction.
"You finally spoke with him?" She asked, dryly.
Looking over her shoulder, she saw Romat-Ru, who was slouched in a chair, clutching his right forearm. Bright, carmine-colored blood oozed from between his fingertips. Shreds of the sleeve appeared stuck to the skin, perhaps the blood acting as an adhesive. Whatever it was that happened, it was enough to break his armband clean off.
"Yeah, yeah. I had words with Arkillo." He attempted to lift his hand from the wound, but was unable to. A hiss escaped through his clenched beak. "He looks tough, -hngh- but he's got about as thin of skin as a-"
Karu-Sil yanked his hand off of the wound, to the sound of a guttural epithet that was untranslatable to her ring.
Peering over her shoulder, one of the Fathers Three inspected the wound along with her. It licked its lips in anticipation, only to be met with a nudge from Karu-Sil as she wrapped the bandage around his arm. Or at least, how she thought a bandage should be wrapped. Such things were an unheard concept in pack.
"Shit, do you even know how to wrap a bandage?" Romat-Ru spat.
"Would you rather bleed out and have themfeast on your corpse?" Karu-Sil retorted, gesturing to the yellow beasts that circled around her. "You do have enough meat on your bones to provide sustenance throughout the winter."
Romat-Ru rolled his eyes.
"I'll pass," he mumbled. He glanced to his right. "How is that coming along, anyhow?"
"It's no longer bleeding through the wrap," said Karu-Sil.
He inspected the bandage. "I've seen a drunken sputanian do a better job of reciting the alphabet, but eh, it'll do." The xudarian flexed his arm. "Not sure why you would help me out like this, but it sure as hell beats bleeding out."
"A pack always looks out for one another." Karu-Sil stroked the head of the construct that sat beside her. "Even the injured and sick."
The other two of the Fathers Three circled around Romat-Ru, sniffing his bandaged arm out of curiosity.
With a bemused laugh, Romat-Ru crossed one leg over the other, and leaned forward. "Oh, so am I part of your little pack now?"
Karu-Sil fell silent, if only for a few seconds.
Upon further consideration, she and the xudarian had fought alongside one another more often in recent months, and he personally freed her from that horrendous crystal prison on Zamaron, though she suspected it was more out of convenience. Even the Fathers Three were becoming more receptive to his presence around her -save for the occasions when one would nip at his heels if he spoke out of line-.
Part of her almost wanted to consider Romat-Ru a member of the family, but he still had much to prove in her eyes before she would openly admit such ridiculous notions.
She pushed a hand against his chest. "Hardly."
"Figured as much." His voice sounded almost... disappointed to her ears.
"But if you are so desiring to join our pack," Karu-Sil sat down across from him. "there is another hunt coming up that would be a good opportunity to prove your worth to the Father's Three."
Romat-Ru's brow slightly rose.
"Do tell," he said.