[ she says for him to keep still so he does his best, one hand fisted in his trousers, the other keeping him upright at his side, palm gripping the metal ground beneath them. the wounds sting in the open air, his shirt a makeshift bandage of sorts between the oozing and blood. he closes his eyes, wishes quietly that pike were here and then furiously unwishes it because pike doesn't deserve this.

her healing magic likely wouldn't even work.

he breathes out. ] I don't know. Time down there seemed to go on forever... could have been hours, days, a week.

[ a sharp hiss inwards at the touch of a more sensitive swath of burning. ] I'm only lucky the one who gave me that burn knew how to fight me off as well as she did. [ she has a name, he remembers it, but he won't speak it. she did what she had to do and he will take it. ]

How did you fare...? Were you up by the bridge?