Yay, yay, yay! Some free time to write!
The bird, in a flurry of desperation, rams its talons against him, slapping him to the ground. He cries out at the impact, but not before swinging his spear at its long, thin neck. Blood spurts from the newly formed stump, and finally, it collapses to the jungle floor. He gurgles helplessly as the shrieking roar of another F.O.E. appears at the worst possible time.
The world's too bright right now, especially with all of the pulsing stars clouding his vision. He sucks in a breath of humid air, and the oddest sound drops from his lips as a broken rib creaks. It's a guttural moan mashed with a wet cry, and his eyes twitch from side to side. Fredrica, Simon – even the sturdy Raquna – they're all down on the ground together. He wriggles his body, and realizes it's not just snapped ribs. The deep lacerations on on his torso have cut through his armor. Organs press against the thinned flesh, and he frowns at how damp the ground is.
"Guys! Guys, wake up!" Arthur screams, hurling hellfire at an insect that could dwarf two armored soldiers. The Highlander's face smears into the mud as he drags his head up. Are he and Arthur the only ones conscious? Not that it would make a difference, with him still incapacitated. Arthur's shrieking now, exhaustion clearly etched into his young face. The boy stiffens as he runs a palm along his gauntlet and the only response is a hollow noise echoing. Yelling, he readies his staff, teeth clenched and eyes wild.
Flickering voices and defective visions begin polluting the Highlander's sight.
-"Run away, hurry! There's no time! Ah! They're here!"-
Poor child. Poor, poor child. As the insect rears back on it's hind feet, the Highlander can almost see those pincers shift into coarse hands with sharp weapons.
-"We're all going to die..."-
Under the dim light, it all feels so familiar – there's no other way to describe it. If this were the past, who would be who?
-"Nooooo! Please, stop, stoooooop!"-
Pain fades into an unimportant background as he, the gored and bloodied warrior, howls and scuttles up to his feet, that inhuman noise still resounding from his throat. Arthur's jaw goes slack, and his short legs finally give way. It's killing him, the Highlander knows it's killing him, but he still lunges at the insect with incoherent screaming.
-"Don't touch him!"-
He focuses all of his energy into his arms, imagining his very life force flooding from his body into those two limbs, crystallizing into raw energy, before finally bursting from his body in an utter explosion – the tip of his spear thrusts straight through the hard exoskeleton of the insect's head and exits out right behind the mandibles. The jaws twitch once, twice, and the entire corpse falls to the peat ground.
-"I don't wanna die – I DON'T WANNA DIE!"-
Gasping, the Highlander wipes colored slime off his face along with red mud. He turns around, and relief washes over his mind to see his friends stirring as Arthur administers Nectars.
Arthur looks up, ready to spill out his relief, but it never comes, morphing into something quite the opposite instead. Blue eyes go wide, and Arthur's entire face seems to become pulled back and grotesque. He points a trembling finger at the Highlander's waist.
"I- I can see," he says; swallows hard, "I can see th-the insides."
The Highlander looks down, and in a haze, prods at some of his bulging entrails through the openings in his trunk. At least they aren't falling out.
"Oh." he murmurs, pushing down the guts with some curiosity. It's the first time he's ever seen so much of his insides.
He finds his vision trailing upwards to the warm light that drifts from the treetops right as the dim sunlight deteriorates to inky black.
-"I didn't want to."-
Didn't want to do what? he muses.
-0-0-0-
Consciousness beckons his mind away from frightful, confusing nightmares of pillage and rape and murder. Mumbling, the pain from his tossing drags him to reality. His body is sluggish, and when he notices how clammy the blankets are from sweat, he starts clearing his throat, trying to swallow, only to be met with a searing throat. He frowns and settles back into the pillows. His legs have gone numb, and he looks down to see Arthur dozing, drool dripping from his mouth.
"Arthur," he whispers hoarsely, shaking the boy's shoulder, "Arthur, go sleep in your bed."
Arthur mumbles, rolls around a bit, and blearily opens his eyes.
"What?" he mutters.
"Why are you sleeping here?"
He yawns and rolls up, before he stares at the Highlander and his jaw drops far enough down to hit his knees.
"Holy crap! You're up!" he shouts, and he starts sniffling for some reason. "I'm gonna get the others!" he calls as he runs off.
He can only stare as Arthur dashes off. In minutes, he can hear delighted shouts and the pounding of feet as all four of them squeeze into the small room and smother him.
"Everyone?" he asks, eyebrows scrunched.
"Oh gosh, how are you awake?" Raquna exclaims, lifting up his shirt without hesitation to examine the stitching. The threads are still cutting into swollen flesh, and he winces as the cloth brushes against the injury.
"Raquna! What're you doing?" Fredrica snaps, shaking Raquna.
"Your recovery speed is absolutely ridiculous," Simon murmurs, carefully observing the Highlander.
The bed-ridden man looks at all three of them, and decides that Arthur looks the least hysterical.
"Arthur, what happened? We were in the jungle and then I can't remember anything."
His head snaps up, and he immediately shifts his gaze away from the Highlander's clear eyes. Simon smoothly takes over.
"He still feels a bit guilty about how you saved him. You must have lost your memory because of all the blood loss."
"Arthur, I'm sure he'll understand," Fredrica says, her voice slightly strained, "just tell him like you told us."
"That's right, that's right!" Raquna adds, placing a gentle hand on Arthur's shoulder, in direct contrast to her boisterous voice.
He swallows, and begins speaking.
"We ended up running away from this scorpion F.O.E. that we couldn't sense, and bumped straight into one of those Moa F.O.E.'s. Right when we killed it, everyone was unconscious but me, and the scorpion thing caught up with us. All of a sudden you woke up and hit it straight through the head and killed it. But, then you ripped up your stomach and I could see your insides. We ran out of Nectars, so we gave you a couple Medicas instead to close up the holes, but you still needed to be treated at the clinic and get stitches.
The Highlander's eyes grow large, and he touches his torso, his face growing increasingly pale.
"You were right at death's doorstop," Simon says.
"I... Don't think that's helping," Fredrica mutters, watching the Highlander's posture slump and fail as well.
"My, my insides?" he whispers, feeling the bumpy threading.
"I don't think I wanna ever see that ever again," Arthur mumbles, his face taking on a green tinge.
"How long will I be here?"
"I'll give you some extra treatment, but I think you'll be stuck here for about three days," Simon says, his gaze elsewhere as he does some calculations on the side. The Highlander nods, his hand firmly placed over his stomach.
"We... Should all carry Adrianne Thread from now on."