Filtering down through the thick canopy of leaves, the late summer sun danced across the wild underbrush. The light was turning a dusty orange, signalling the end of the day. Purple blood dripped into dead leaves, each new splatter accompanied by a quiet frustrated sniffle.
"Ach, I dropped another one! Just had to hit me on the nose!"
"You're worried about a nosebleed? What about all of these?!", he motioned broadly at her bruised body, "Rayla seriously, can we just make camp? There's a waterfall right over there and a clearing, it's the perfect place! Look at Zym and tell me if he looks ready to keep walking!"
The elf turned to face her accoster, walking backwards comfortably, her right hand still raised to her face.
"Don't you dare use him as an excuse, Callum. He's been zapping people, I've been kickin' butt all day – what have you done?", she razzed.
"Watching you get beaten up, mostly.", he said, solemnly.
She stopped, smile fading.
"Are you alright?", she asked.
"Oh, I'm fine", he lied, "How about you?"
She sniffled, rolling her eyes.
"Ugh, I just wish I could go back to breathin' normally. That'd be helpful."
"Okay. Well, you bleeding all over the place is `so helpful` to us right now. How about we find a log, sit you down and shove some gauze up your nose at least?"
She looked at him, similarly covered in all kinds of cuts and bruises, at the sleeping dragon whelp in his backpack and finally examined her bloodstained hand. She sniffled again and there was the taste of copper in her mouth.
"Ew", she spat, "alright, fine, let's camp."
She was surprised by how tired her own voice sounded once she stopped moving, "But next time, use `air quotes` with the `voice` - else I might miss the sarcasm!"
Callum started making camp. Rayla, after stuffing some gauze up her nose, managed to find some berries and mushrooms that she knew were edible. Ever so often, she'd pop a berry in her mouth. As she foraged further, she felt her adrenaline levels drop. She started feeling herself, and immediately wished it wasn't so.
"Oof, I'm beat.", she told Callum, slumping into a bed of moss he had piled up for her. While he put together his own cot, Rayla watched.
The hunters who had waylaid them had sprung an expert trap that had failed somewhat.
The landslide meant to crush the three of them had missed her entirely and merely pinned him and Azmondias down.
He'd gotten pretty scratched and banged up but the dirt had mostly just kept him from helping her fight at first. Once free, he had managed to stay away from all the sharp points and edges that had come their way this afternoon.
"Who would've guessed that carrying around a bright blue dragon would attract this much attention? No less from people whose idea of a civilized conversation contains enough metal for a church bell", he quipped.
"Laughin' hurts.", she groaned, "it's a good thing you're not funny"
He gave her a cheeky smile that turned to bemused concern when her stomach growled audibly.
"Well thanks for your input I guess", she smirked, patting her midriff. Small clouds of dust separated from her punctured clothes, prompting her to wince.
"Ah, I'll trade you. While you fix dinner, I'll go wash myself and any clothes you wanna hand me."
He slipped off his overcoat and handed her his pants. "Really appreciate it. Once you're back, I can put some bandages on you."
"We still have some?"
"I kept a stock", he shrugged, "not like they go bad as fast as food."
Callum finished putting up his cot, then started collecting firewood.
"Alright, you do your thing while I go check around", he affectionately told the smouldering kindling.
Tracing back the path they had arrived on for some distance, he carefully picked up any purple forest debris he could find. He spent some time erasing their tracks and when he was satisfied, he walked back to camp.
When his foot caught a root, it came as such a surprise that he yelped, falling not just on his face but rolling down the river's embankment. The bloodstained debris, caked together, flew off into the water and drifted off as he watched.
"Ow", he mumbled, sitting up against the trunk of a massive nearby tree. For a moment, he sat disoriented, watching the sun kaleidoscope on the river's surface.
Suddenly, he heard quiet, quick steps, crunching the odd dry leaf, approaching from behind the tree. He hugged the tree and froze. If the headhunters had decided to come after them after all, he would have to take them on alone until Rayla caught wind of the fight.
A crouched shape zoomed past him, swords drawn. It was Rayla.
"Hey!", Callum called out and Rayla tripped over her own feet, falling face-first into the mud.
Cringing, Callum walked over to help her up.
"What's your problem!?", she sputtered furiously, "Why did you scream?! I thought you were in trouble!"
"I didn't scream, I yelped! I stumbled over a root and… sorta… bumbled down here."
The elf was apparently very embarrassed, patting herself to remove the dirt that clung to her now.
"What are you doin' out here, anyway? I thought you were putting together a fire."
"I was. Oh. Yeah, I should probably get back to that before our stuff catches."
She shook her head at him.
"I told you before; don't leave an open flame, Callum!"
Under her annoyed glare, he scrambled up the river's bank and was soon gone from view.
She sighed. Falling on her face like this in front of him annoyed her greatly, but she couldn't help thinking,
'That was a little harsh, Rayla.'