018: CAN YOU HEAR ME?

"Satero," Corosa muttered, somewhere into the mastersmith's shoulder, or possibly his throat, "You can't be asleep."

The continuing lack of a conscious response said otherwise.

"You're hurting my arm," Corosa tried. That was true, at least. Satero wasn't light, and in addition to latching on to Corosa's hair with both hands, he had also managed to roll over and pin down Corosa's one good arm. The mastersmith was going to hear no end of it come morning. Unless Corosa suffocated first.

That seemed fully possible, considering the fact that it was impossible to wake Satero up unless one jammed an axe between his eyes. Corosa always woke earlier than Satero, and always wound up waiting for anywhere from half an hour to three for the mastersmith to wake up as well. Physical violence usually did work, but Corosa did not enjoy kicking Satero awake because Satero tended to latch on to his boots with his teeth.

Corosa fervently wished the light would arrive sooner. Satero's nails were sharp, his grip was tight, and Corosa was going to have the worst headache on the face of the earth in the morning. That, and the smell of the mastersmith was going to stay with him for the rest of his life. Sweat, leather, something metallic that could have been the lingering scent of blood. It wasn't altogether unpleasant, but the man still needed a wash. Then again, Corosa probably did too. He made a note to drown them both in the next river they came across.

Corosa tried to get his arm out from under the mastersmith once more, to no avail. He couldn't feel his fingers now. It made him wonder what life would be like without either arm.

The thought made him wince. Never mind. Life was miserable enough with one amputation.

Still, unless Satero rolled off him soon, Corosa felt he was going to end up with cut-off circulation to a vital limb and even more misery than before.

His legs were causing him no small amount of discomfort, too, due to the fact that they were splayed at an awkward angle in order to avoid contact with Satero's. He tried shifting them backwards. After the initial twinge of pain, he decided the only way they were going to bend any more was by breaking in a new joint somewhere in his thighs.

Maybe this was why they needed to set up night watches. At least, with one man awake, they wouldn't wind up like this again.

Corosa wondered what Satero wanted with his hair, anyway.

"I wish you'd let go," Corosa muttered, entertaining the notion of kicking Satero until he woke up, or was forced away. At least, if neither happened, Satero would have to deal with some nasty bruises for a while. Though – worse than that, actually. No kicking, Corosa told himself sourly. Not with Satero's leg in the condition it was.

There had to be some other way of getting the damn mastersmith off him.

Corosa thought hard.

"I'm going to bite you," he said. There was not an ounce of humor in his voice.

No reply.

Corosa grimaced, braced himself mentally, and then sunk his teeth into Satero's throat.

It had the desired effect. And then some.

Satero attempted to combine all the curses he knew into one sentence, and managed to come out with a horrifying mutation of a scream.

And instead of shoving Corosa away, as any normal man would have done, Satero banged their heads together—causing Corosa's skull to attempt an escape by vibrating its way out of his ears—then tried to knee him in the groin. Corosa's body acted first and managed to twist himself out of the way, while flailing his legs and deflecting Satero with his feet. Satero settled for rolling on top of him and pinning him to the ground instead. He was just about to smash his fist into Corosa's face before his mind caught up with his body.

"Wait, what the hell?" he demanded, unclenching his fist.

"You wouldn't wake up," Corosa growled. He was not taking kindly to the attack, especially the one that had been aimed between his legs. Meanwhile, his skull still hadn't given up its escape attempt, and now felt like it was expanding.

"It's midnight! What the hell did you want me to wake up for? Why the hell did you bite me?" Satero's tone of voice was fluctuating between bewildered and infuriated. Possibly injured.

"You grabbed me," Corosa muttered. "Mind getting off?"

"No. Yes. No. Uhm. Shit. What'd I do?"

"Grab my hair. In your sleep. And you'd pinned down my arm." Corosa was only a word away from biting Satero again. Satero had a knee jammed into Corosa's shin, one hand wrapped around Corosa's wrist, and the remaining hand holding down Corosa's other leg.

"Yeah, but did ya have to bite me, you fucker?" Satero's confusion was burying itself in a rapidly growing flood of anger.

"What else was I supposed to do? You wouldn't wake up. Will you let me go now?" Corosa was resisting the urge to deliver his own knee-to-groin, courtesy of his headache.

They glared at each other for a while. Or at least, Corosa assumed Satero was glaring at him. He still could not see clearly in the dark. The only thing he could tell for certain was that Satero's grip on his wrist had just tightened, but his knee had shifted to the ground, and they were both breathing hard.

Also, Satero still had not gotten off.

"I am going to bite you again," Corosa said.

Satero laughed. "Try me, fucker."

Corosa was tempted. But his mind cut in above his instinct, frantically waving around a comparison of Corosa's quite normal teeth to Satero's ungodly sharp ones. Instinct hesitated. A conclusion was drawn, somewhat rapidly.

"No."

"Hah. 'S what I thought, bastard."

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A/N: SO WHAT DID HAPPEN TO THE ARCHER IN THE LAST CHAPTER?(1) AND DOES SATERO EVER GET OFF COROSA? The world may never know!

B-b-by the way please don't try to kill me.

This chapter brought to you by a certain authorlady high on fanart (tinyurl dot com slash yvmwox – or linked to in my profile). Therefore, credit goes to Rizuchan for the idea behind this one. Go shower her with love, you guys.

(1) One of the reviewers sorta guessed right. (It was obviously Rizu. :D)