The bloody fool.
The bloody moron.
The literally bloody bird.
Streaming trails of red through the lake the Rito sank quickly.
Out of sight, out of mind for the Kargarocs he was fighting.
Yet in plain view of a startled and disgusted Zora.
Quite what the Rito had planned, Galvatron had no idea, because he certainly was a fool if he thought he'd be carried to shore.
Not with armour like that.
Instinct and a dash of hunger drew Galvatron closer to the fallen warrior, the taste of blood permeating the water only getting stronger.
Ugh, the entire lake would reek of Rito blood and be swarming with monsters if he left him here.
Against better judgment Galvatron grabbed the Rito's shoulder plates, coughing up bubbles of air as he tried to tug the body along by it.
That armour really was heavier than he looked, how did this guy even manage to stay airborne with something like this strapped to him?.
Heavy but not impossible, Galvatron grunted as he yanked on the Rito again, pulling him upwards and away in a diagonal motion, quietly breaking the surface of the water.
That was good enough for non-aquatics right?
Regardless the heavy bird was a pain to drag along to the edge of the lake, and even more so when out of the water.
What did these guys even eat?.
Galvatron huffed and panted as he looked at the damn moron, face down in the dirt.
There was a process for this.
He did know it.
King Ceatus was on good terms with the Hylians, they couldn't breathe underwater.
As a royal guard, Galvatron could've been put out to guard some Hylian diplomat visiting on behalf of their royalty.
And if that said diplomat managed to die while under the watch of a royal guard AND of something like drowning…
Well, that would just be no good now, would it?
But for a Rito?
Did they breathe differently?
There were certainly no lips for this Hylian practice of 'mouth-to-mouth'.
Though this was probably just a case of breathing in water along with swallowing copious amounts of it.
It also looked utterly stupid when Galvatron planted a foot either side of the unconscious Rito's waist and grabbed his middle.
With a grunt, Galvatron tried lifting him up a little.
The soggy bird was pulled up into a vague arching position.
Whatever, good enough.
Thinking back to his rather unnecessary training Galvatron squeezed and shook the Rito slightly.
He was never good at this process.
Shuffling about he tried to squeeze the Rito again, but it sent a rush of warmth down his arms and Galvatron dropped the Rito with a yelp.
Upon being dropped the Rito convulsed, gagging and spewing up water as his body jerked in response.
But just as quickly as he spasmed he flopped down, still unconscious.
Galvatron looked down, his arms were covered in blood.
He'd squeezed the wounds from the Kargarocs claws and in response to the sudden pain he'd jerked about but still remained woozy and unconscious.
And still bleeding.
The damn, stupid, singing feather-brain would still bleed into the lake at this rate.
Galvatron palmed at his face and grumbled to himself before waddling back into the lake.
This guy was fucking lucky Galvatron had restocked on healing herbs.
He was even fucking luckier that while generally grumpy Galvatron didn't have a personal grudge against his kind.
He couldn't be bothered with such tedious shit, even when a guard, then again that might just have been due to listening to King Ceatus gripe constantly about them and the 'threat they posed'.
Distaste for the King outweighed his distaste for one random Rito guard.
Carrying the water-tight bag up from his home he shook it clear of water droplets before opening it up.
He could mix them up easily with his hands, the natural moisture of Zora's hands let them mix pastes quite quickly, it was very useful when you needed to make medical paste in a pinch.
The herbs were easily crushed and their remains soaked up Galvatrons natural moisture, quickly smoothing out into an unappetising paste swirling around his palms.
Galvatron looked down at the Rito.
This face-down in the dirt and wearing clothes, Galvatron really hadn't thought it through.
Oh well, this was just some asshole who had disturbed the peace with his damn annoying beautiful singing.
It didn't have to be the work of the greatest standards, as long as it did its job.
Galvatron had a finger and thumb free, more than enough to slowly pull the shirt of this Rito upwards.
They must have been on some sort of patrol, only the one piece of armour and very light fabrics over the rest of them, whatever they were doing must have involved a lot of flying something that would make full-body armour more trouble than it's worth.
Around the wounds, the shirt was harder to manoeuvre.
The fabric was already heavier than normal and sticking to him from the water, but now around the wounds blood stained everything from feathers to the clothes.
It also practically behaved like glue and Galvatron had to roll up the shirt in his hands and pinch the fabric closer to the wounds before he could even begin trying to peel it off.
It even came with its own stickier sound-effect as the fabric after some light tugging finally 'popped' free and Galvatron could pull the fabric the rest of the way.
By everything holy, he prayed the Rito didn't wake up now.
He didn't want to be seen like this.
Silently and intently slathering this unconscious Rito with healing paste.
Wordlessly Galvatron kept his eyes trained on the puncture wounds from the Kargaroc claws and tried his best to completely cover them with the paste, trying to cover as much as possible.
There…
That should be enough… Probably.
Galvatron rubbed his hands together and stood back to admire his handiwork.
Work in the form of several uneven globs of funny-coloured paste over a half-stripped Rito's back and some on his front.
Oh god.
It was surreal.
But at least he wasn't bleeding anymore and that was enough for Galvatron.
Reobtaining his sack of fish Galvatron ran into the water, probably a bit more desperately than he needed to be, but he didn't want to hang around.
He didn't even want to eat the fish anymore he just stuffed them quickly into a small alcove in his 'house' and scurried into his rustic excuse of a bed.
And there he stayed staring at the floor for the unforeseeable future.
No one must know of this.
No Zora ever bothered to visit him, he wasn't worth their time even the medic that seemed on somewhat decent terms with him hadn't made any attempt to go near his new home.
It was good.
Worked in his favour.
He was hated enough, he didn't need to be seen as helping the enemy.
Even if they were a moron who just stood about singing his damn, stupid head off.
The sun moved by a measurable amount by the time Galvatron slowly uncurled himself from his tight position.
It was almost ready to sink below the horizon and allow the moon to take its place.
He supposed he should probably check on the Rito.
Probably.
Maybe.
Just a little?.
Yeah, a little, that's fine, maybe he got eaten by a passing beast.
No, there was no blood spilt into the lake and he doubted any beast would really take it's time to be cleanly about its food.
It was a silent swim to the surface, not even a sound was made as the tip of Galvatron's head broke the surface slowly, until his eyes were the only major thing above water.
It was quiet here too.
Looking to the shore, it was visually quiet too.
No sign of a struggle, or movement at all.
Squinting Galvatron could still see a slumped mess of a shape.
Had it been hours yet the Rito still hadn't moved?
Was he concussed? Were there more injuries Galvatron had not noticed? He thought he had patched up all the major ones…
He allowed himself a small moment to chew on his lower lip.
He should probably check… Just, to make sure…
He didn't want to charge over, just in case he was awake, but curiosity was a powerful force.
Besides, he was a royal guard, 'was' being the keyword but it was still something to his name, some lousy patrol Rito had to try better than this to get him off guard.
Some lousy, still unconscious Rito.
Fuck.
Damnit.
The blood that had already seeped from his wounds had congealed in the dirt around him like dry pasty lumps but all the water had evaporated leaving him dry as a bone and the medical paste thoroughly dried into his feathers, putting a cap on the claw wounds.
Galvatron fiddled with his hands, rubbing them against each other and up himself as he wandered back and forth trying to run over some things to do.
This helpless bastard was going to make him do it, wasn't he?
The pathetic thing had him.
Stupid.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
By the Gods he hated it.
Galvatron could easily pry off large strips of tree bark and local areas of the forest had those strange plants in them.
The ones whose name he could never remember, they were like tiny trees with absurdly thick trunks and huge leaves.
Whatever they were called their leaves were very, very useful at this point.
Deciding on dragging the Rito further in-land, Galvatron put him in between some decently sized rocks, probably about the same height as the Rito if he were sitting upright.
That was more than enough right?
It'd have to do anyway as he propped the strips of tree bark on top of the rocks making a rudimentary roof.
Mud from a nearby rivers edge helped stick the leaves to each other and to the tree bark along with sticking this now extra-layered roof to the rocks even further.
It looked ugly but it'd dry out.
It'd work.
Rather unceremoniously, Galvatron pushed the Rito further into the ugly little hut.
This is what they needed right.
It was all he needed to do, right?
If he's unconscious it's not like he's seeking companionship or getting a drink or eating or anything.
Galvatron didn't need to do a thing.
Done and done, this was a job done.
It was cold though, his haphazard attempt at hut-making had taken Galvatron quite a long while and more than one dip in the lake to re-moisturise' himself and it was now dark.
He should proooobably make a fire.
That was the sensible thing to do.
Well, then he won't do it.
At some times Galvatron practically made it a mission not to be sensible, so hah! Take that! Screw your fire!.
Though it wasn't just sensible it was the kind and helpful thing to do.
Galvatron wanted to wait until this guy woke up just to slap him for making him feel like doing the good and helpful thing to do.
He was no carer.
He hated this and he hated the Rito. Probably.
He also hated fire.
A lot.
He hated how the dry leaves and twigs he had found needed to be carried carefully so his moist skin didn't make them less-dry.
He hated the lame, tedious process of making a fire.
He hated how a sudden rush of flame licked at his fingertips and singed his nose.
It hurt and then the fire dared spread and burnt its way around his other hand.
He hated how he felt compelled to take from his own stash and set up a few fish on a stick, propped above the fire, hissing and roasting nicely.
He spun to glare at the Rito.
Boy if he were awake Galvatron would have a few choice words to hiss and snarl at the idiot.
With a squint Galvatron looked at his arm, he was sure the Rito had them flopped over his front when Galvatron had shoved him in the hut earlier, but now it was dropped to his side.
Had he moved?
Was he awake and preparing an ambush?
How long had he been awake?
Fuck, he moved, he must have, he totally did move.
A tiny squeal crept around at the back of Galvatrons throat as he bolted to the lake once more, not even bothering to swim home the purple Zora pressed himself under the first rock big enough to hide him.