His shoulder screamed as he leapt from the wall. Splinters of fire pierced the shattered joint, slowly consuming his self-control. His head throbbed, pounding counterpart to his frantic heartbeat, his stomach a slow, dull burn at his centre. Teeth clenched and lips curled, he moved. They were strong. His legs were numb, weak, and he stumbled as he crept along the trees in the dark, sweat dripping from his forehead and sticking shirt to aching ribs. He was used to pain. His constant- only- companion; comforting in its familiarity.
Sometimes he wished it was gone.