Face creased, he groaned miserably, a shaky hand pressed tightly to the gaping wound in his chest.
"It's going to be ok." she soothed with a saddened smile, gently prying his bloodied hand away and replacing it with her own.
The bite wound was the worst of it but beyond that there were deep claw marks almost as long as her arm, leaving no doubt he'd been attacked by a griffin. Grimm stared up at the sprite through a haze as her palm began to glow, mesmerized by her lively green eyes which danced and sparkled beautifully. If he was dying it would be as a happy man.
"It's going to hurt just a little." she warned as the bleeding slowly subsided and the skin began weaving and sewing itself back together like an invisible needle. "I'm sorry." she grimaced when he hissed in pain.
How cruel, she thought, that the mending should be painful as well but there was no help for that. The damage sustained was too great for his body to heal on its own.
Grimm didn't quite know what to think of the creature above him, the very race he was tasked with hunting day after day. That was his job, assigned directly to his people from the overlord himself; eliminate the sprites, fairies and elfs; no questions, no deviations. But yet there she was hovering over him, using her own life force to pull him back from the cold hand of death and gods she was as beautiful as an angel. Until he saw her Grimm had been certain he was going to die, alone and shivering in the middle of the forest. Somewhat fitting, he'd thought, having left so very many bodies behind to do the very same thing.
The sprites' already pallid skin began to pale further as the energy flowed out of her and into the ash-grey orc sprawled out before her on the forest floor. He was a killer and though she knew it well there was no denying what the gods had created her for, healing. Fennix hadn't been created to judge who deserved to live and die and had been unable to leave him lying in a pool of his own blood. She'd tried to force herself to walk by, he was a monster after all, but hadn't made it five feet before being pulled back as if there were a literal rope around her middle. The gods would have to deal with his soul later.
Grimm sighed as the deep throbbing in his chest began to subside feeling like he could breathe for the first time in what felt like hours. The wounds were slowly vanishing, leaving only little pools and streaks of dried blood behind to show they'd ever been there. The sprite would be leaving soon and vanishing into the eve, his life the only proof that she'd ever been there. Unabashedly he reached up and ran his grubby fingers through her long, black locks, feeling more conflicted than he'd ever been in his forty years of life. The next day he would be tasked to hunt her kind again, he was alive after all and that was his job. But how could he after this, after being saved by the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen? His heart skipped a beat when the white glow subsided and her hand withdrew, she was leaving.
With a last look at his now passive face the sprite smiled softly and trailed her fingers tips down his cheek, feeling less of an urgency to get away from him than she should have. There was no doubt he would pursue her in the morn, the orcs being one of the most violent creatures the gods had created but he felt different than he had before.
"Wait," he croaked, grabbing her hand almost desperately when she turned to go. "Your name…"
"Fennix." she whispered, red lips curving into a smile, and vanished.