Everything was silent, not even the echoes of the crumbling rocks from the other side of the cavern reached the ragged trio; their sleeping forms and thoughtless minds unhindered from the deafening silence and the occasional quiet sounds that penetrated air from time to time.
Moments before, Ogrim conversed with the other two and believed that they should rest before looking for medical help. The Hollow Knight agreed with the Dung Defender, feeling the exhaustion from the scrambling journey creep into their form. Though as much as they wanted to help their father immediately and get out of this crumbling chasm, there wasn't much they could do—after all where else can they go when the only home they knew of was destroyed before their eyes?—so taking everything in strides and adhering to the former White Defender's advice was all they could accomplish for now.
The Pale King on the other hand had no words to say and allowed the other two to do what they needed. What else could he say? He had no idea what was going on, who the knights were, or why they were so wounded; even more jarring with how enamored they were with him when he doesn't even know his own identity himself.
Considering how far down they were and how hidden they were from the main roads, there was no need to keep watch for any enemies or feral creatures, instead they gave each other room for comfort and maneuvered themselves into a comfortable sleeping position.
Ogrim was the first to fall asleep. He rolled up into a ball and leaned himself against the more "comfortable-looking" rubble. It took The Hollow Knight a little longer, deciding to stay where they were and leaned against the egg, while still cradling their father. The Pale King allowed them to continue swaddling him if it meant it would make the giant feel better—though not without instinctively begging fate that he wouldn't be squished to death as they slept.
Though as time flew by, the Pale King wasn't able to fall asleep. There were too many questions flooding his head, so much so it made him anxious and a little irritated. He hated not knowing something—something he deduced to be part of his personality—and his scientific and logical need to theorize and figure things out didn't let him take it lying down. He was a scientist at heart, even though he didn't know himself so the thought of being ignorant left him reeling in self-disgust.
He waited until the bigger knight's breathing was deep and heavy before he gently slithered out of their grasp and stood back up again. He looked back to make sure he hadn't awakened them before calmly slithering away into a random direction. He thought walking around would help turn the wheels in his head, but he only got gravel instead. He found himself lying face first in the ground, completely shaken and confused, before growling at himself when realization hit him.
He forgot how to walk.
He figured remembering how to speak would tell him he still remembered the basic fundamentals of living, but he guessed wrong.
He hates being wrong.
The thought of not being able to walk made him feel even more inferior-despite just coming out of an egg.
He spat out a stray pebble that flew into his mouth and wobbled back into an upright position. Now wasn't the time to grovel, he thought as he dusted himself off, if he walked before he can do it again. Right?
Of course. (From what he could tell) he was fully grown and capable of deep thought and very receptive to his surroundings, surely learning to walk again will be easy?
Perhaps. But he doesn't see himself rushing headfirst to accomplish something, that's how mistakes happen. He's a natural perfectionist by trade after all.
He outstretches his arms into a T-pose and slowly slithers his lower body to accelerate himself forwards at a very slow pace. All was well for the first few seconds before he quickly lost his balance and fell to the ground again, but this time he was ready, having his arms in front of him to break the fall just before his head could hit the broken pavement.
"Improvement," he muttered to himself as he slowly got up again. "But I still have a lot more work ahead of me if I'm to master this (again)." He muttered the last part bitterly as he dusted himself off once more before setting off to try again.
This went on for a while, a repeated process of moving before losing balance and falling to the floor, though there was improvement by how long he could last, the Pale King became more and more tired and irritated from the small progress he has made.
Though he has refused to give up. Failure will not be tolerated.
However, the constant sounds of something slithering through rocks followed by a small thump has not gone unnoticed by the larger knight. Though they were in a deeper sleep, they were still a seasonal knight that prided in their name-sake, and had their senses trained to be alert at all times—specifically for sleep since they were supposed to seal away an enemy that thrived in the dream realm, after all.
Hearing the sound for the first time brought the knight's conscious back into the waking realm only to immediately notice the absence of the warmth in their arm. Luckily, they only needed to shift their large head slightly to find their father doing…something.
They didn't understand what it was he was doing at first, but they were able to catch on quick, and it left them feeling disheartened. To think that their father had to relearn how to walk was a heartbreaking thought, but seeing the determination in his eyes made them inwardly smile. They were confident in his father's ability to do anything through sheer perseverance alone, they were very proud of their father's ingenuity and self-motivation.
Even so, they wished they could do more for their father. Anything to help him make things easier. Instead, all they can do was watch as their determined father kept falling to the ground over and over again.
Yet the Pale King hasn't noticed his quiet audience. Not until he fell to the ground one last time. As he fell, one of the large, sharp rocks from the rubble punctured one of his palms, causing the monarch to cry out in pain as he held his bloody hand close to his chest.
The Hollow Knight jolted upright and sprung into action only to weakly collapse back to the ground, void of energy.
The Pale King whipped his head around in shock and noticed the knight struggling to stand back up again. Quickly as he could, the Pale King slithered over to them only to fall short again, but quickly stood back up again and raced to the collapsed knight. Just as he was about to fall once more, he caught himself on the knight's large horns. They raised their head and helped the king to reconstitute himself.
The king looked down to find the knight staring up at him, their eyes locked for a brief moment before the pale king's wounded hand pulsed and forced the king to flinch away and let go of the knight's horns before grabbing at their bloody hand once more.
It oozed a combination of glowing, white and dark matter. The puncture itself was pretty deep but not enough to pierce through the entire hand. The sight made the king want to vomit. Never had he seen something so gruesome!
Just as he was about to faint from the ghastly sight, the knight placed their large hand over his and softly closed their fist around it. The king was so occupied from his hand he hadn't noticed the knight crawling close to him until they were directly behind him.
They rested their head on one of his shoulders and softly squeezed his father's hand, the air becoming dense as the air glowed faintly from both him and the knight, the light focusing onto the hand before it suddenly released, blobs of white light disintegrated into the air as the knight released their hold on the hand, revealing it to be completely healed.
The king gawked at the hand, raising it to his face as he studied it in disbelief, ignorant to the knight lifting their head from their shoulders.
"H-how, h-how did you do that?" The pale king said as he turned his head to face the tired knight. "How did you heal my hand?"
The hollow knight stared at the pale king in silence before turning around and pointing to the spot where they were sleeping earlier. Though the king understood, he was still begrudging to accept, until the knight offered its only hand to him.
Confused, the king took it only for him to be pulled to stand in front of them with their hand still grasping his, their form easily towering over his.
"What are you doing?" The Pale King asked.
The hollow knight gestured their head towards the same spot, their hand gently squeezing his.
The pale king's head briefly flushed red in embarrassment when he realized what they were trying to do.
They wanted to help him walk.
He took a moment to calm himself and to shut the degrading thoughts out of his mind before turning away from the knight in a huff, though still clutching his hand.
"Just so you know I am capable of learning on my own." He started. "But I will also gladly take up your offer if it means it will help." He quickly finished.
The hollow knight glowed at the response allowing the king to set up the pace for the short walk ahead.
The dung defender, however, was completely oblivious to all that has happened, his senses still dulled from his years of exile.