A Small Glade

[Asila]

Evening watched the Darkling fall, trying to shake the black blood from her claws. Disgusting. She thought, glowering at it, though she was very pleased with the fact that she had seriously injured it.

Just then, she felt a presence behind her. The second invisible Darkling, no doubt. She turned to face it...but Devon stepped in, his sword flashing in the light as he tried to take the thing out for her. Show off. She smiled slightly at the distempered thought, slightly surprised. Even she knew this was a stupid thing to get competitive over. Would she rather have been stabbed again?

When he asked her how she was doing, she replied immediately with "Just fine." It was almost true. Besides, now was not the time to argue with her over it. This Darkling may not be dead yet...

[Rojo]

The Darkling lunged, being the only one left, it thrust all its desperation into driving the sword into Devon, but it's attack was flawed, leaving it exposed in many places. If Devon could easily cut around it, he could kill it in one motion. (That's permission to say you killed it)

Rojo leaned against the carriage, waiting for the other two to finish the last opponent off. Shadow was crouching, watching the noble and the beast-woman's fighting styles.

[Seven]

The desperations of the Darkling would indeed be it's downfall. The rapier allows for swift, quick movements and attacks from different angulations. All Devon had to do was side step, to move out of the blade's path and then he easily thrusted through one of the Darkling's vital spots, killing it instantly. He pulls out the rapier as the Darkling falls down to the floor, dead, and uses a quick water spell to wipe off the remaining blood and resheath it.

He smiles a little, "Well, that went well..." he approaches the carriage again. "So Rojo, what were those things?"

[Asila]

Evening watched the floating streak of midnight blood that marked the Darkling fall with a sense of relief. She was glad that the scuffle was over. The tension of her muscles was causing the wound in her stomach to pain her, even though her crouched stance relieved most of the strain placed on it.

When Devon walks back toward the carriage she hangs back, kneeling upon the grass so that she can free her hand of the blood that coated it. Unlike Devon, she was unable to use her magic to help her. She was much too weak from squandering it on the false tar pit earlier.

Her movements were slower than usual, affected by her desire to favor the wound in her abdomen. She shifts her hand back into the normal, human version and smears the sticky substance onto the grass, managing to get most of the stuff off of her skin though she'd really like to find a stream. And she was still splattered by the disgusting substance.

Maybe she'd just wander off, find the stream that she knew lay nearby, and go for a swim. Having forgotten for the moment that she was injured.

She straightened quickly, having intended to disappear with the stream as her destination, but immediately curled back over the wound, wincing. Her jaw slammed shut against the intense shock of pain, and she managed to bite her tongue. She wanted to swear, but couldn't breathe. She squeezed her eyes shut and brought her second arm to join the first. She could feel the blood begin to stream from the wound again, but she would not look. She would not be all right if she looked.

So she just sat very still and silent as she waited for both the pain and the rising sense of panic to ease.

[Rojo]

Rojo grinned. They'd won.
Shadow climbed back into the carriage to the sobbing driver. He looked hopelessly around, looking for something to do to comfort the man. He poked his head around the door and looked at the others, decided against alerting them to Jenri, and gingerly sat down away from the man.

"I dunno. I think they were Darklings. Speacial ones, Shadow's seen them before, I think..." he looked thoughtfully at the trees. Then gestured to Evening with his good arm.
"Is she gonna be okay? I think I have a bandage...and some fleshmoss" he plunged his hand deep into one of his many pockets. He pulled out a long cotton bandage and a cylindrical container with some sort of green sludge inside.
"Sometimes first aid is better than magic" he explained, beckoning for Evening to come over to them, holding up the bandage.
"You need to paste the moss around around the wound to stop the flow of blood and then put the bandage around her stomach in case the moss gets cracked when it dries." Fleshmoss was a plant on Yorl that when dried could help blood clot, and was a useful item to have when travelling, but it had to be kept moist at all times.

Rojo seemed to not have not noticed his shirt was bloodied and he felt dizzy. That was part of the Hero's oath, that one must put others before one's self.

[Seven]

Devon, in his relief, had forgotten that both Rojo and Evening had been seriously injured. He chastised himself; just because he had managed to remain relatively unharmed didn't meat that the others had as well!

Once again, he cursed himself for not taking 141 Undergraduate Seminar in the Healing Arts. He kept promising that he would take it next semster--or hell, being of the Shire heir, he could have just hired a private tutor, but somehow he always became distracted with other classes. Perhaps it was the boy in him, and the boy in him liked magic that went 'boom.'

"She's in no condition to move Rojo, and neither are you!" he said, worried for his new friend's safety. He had to keep a cool head though, so he could think straight. Fortunately, he acceled at this. He turned into the carriage, meaning to grab some more first aid supplies (in case Rojo's weren't enough for two), only to see the sight of the crying driver on the carriage floor. "Jenri?" he asked with a question in his voice. Jenri was indeed such a coward.

Jenri looked up from the floor, and slowed his sobbing to a sniffle. In a moment's spur, he latched onto the yong aristocrat's waist (as to take comfort of some sort) and resumed sobbing loudly, "Oh Master Devon, are we dead yet!??" Jenri might have had a high alcohol tolerance from years of drinking in the taverns, but a whole bottle all at once made him a little more than tipsy.

Devon flinched a little, "No Jenri--we are NOT dead, and we are going to be FINE!" he emphasized, trying to pull the drunken driver off his waist, "The creatures are dead now, so PLEASE remove yourself from my WAIST!" he managed to squirm free. He noted Jenri's breath smelled of alcohol, but he said nothing; it had been a traumatic experience after all. He bent down, going into a compartment, pulling out a few more herbs and bandanges, before hoping out of the carriage.

He looked at Rojo, deciding he looked better off than Evening who was curled on the floor. "My friend, do you think you can care for you're own wounds? I think that Evening's might be worse, and I fear for her well-being." Devon couldn't notice that Rojo might have been just as bad off, as he was speaking so cooly, but looking at his shirt, he added in, "I'll come back to help you immediately after though..."

Since he didn't want Evening to move, he went over to help her, and bent down beside her, "Miss Evening, do you think you could unfurl yourself for a moment? I need to treat your wounds..." he said softly.

[Asila]

Evening opened her eyes to stare at Rojo when he spoke. She was half-tempted to yell 'I'm not wounded!' but fortunately she had not quite regained her breath, for this would have seemed a very immature and idiotic thing to say. This was a very embarrasing situation for her, however. She would have preferred to collapse alone in the woods somewhere. As long as something didn't sniff out her blood and arrive for supper, she'd probably be all right. The wound would heal on it's own in good time. But she hadn't been able to wander off, and so she had to suffer the mortification of not only being seen in such a weakened condition by humans, but being helped by them. This was intolerable. First tricked then defended then healed by humans. She would never retrieve her dignity!

She had to pay them back somehow. She would never let herself live this down if she didn't.

However, she could not dwell on this for any longer. Devon had just chosen that moment to approach. She stared at him, some of her earlier defiance sparking once more in her gaze. "If you would just leave me here, it will probably be fine. That way, I won't owe you anything." This was true in her mind. He had offered to defend her with his tigers, she had helped him fight. All trickery put aside, things were now even between them. If she allowed him to treat her wounds, they wouldn't be any longer.

That, and she didn't want to catch sight of the blood. Falling into a state of hysteria in direct result to nightmarish flashbacks would be even less fun, and more embarassing, than lying here alone for a day or two, even wounded as she was. Of course, she could close her eyes against the sight, but that would make her feel very helpless. She'd rather not.

And so, she was being difficult again. It may be more wise for Devon to go and help Rojo and contend with the Tallamous girl later. Convincing her quickly of just letting him help would be difficult. Her race was a proud one, and she did not want to be indebted. Even if it could nean dying here.

[Rojo]

Rojo nodded, and looked at the dagger wound
"Bah, just a flesh wound!" he said, even though it was quite obvious he needed help, as it was bleeding profusely. Shadow was still staring at the driver on the floor. It really makes you think, how some people'll be loyal and trustworthy one moment, and when danger shows up, cowering. Well, Shadow thought, he is rather old...

Rojo walked over to the others, every step feeling like a lead weight
"Don't be stupid," he said, grimacing "you won't owe us anything. It's egnough trouble that me and my friend most likely brought here" he had forgotten Shadow wasn't visible to Evening, and his sentance didn't exactly give away his origins, so he wasn't breaking Devon's rule of not telling anybody of said origins.
He held out the bandages and Fleshmoss
"Look. If you won't let us help you, take these and help yourself!"
Offering such a useful item such as Fleshmoss was a generous gesture, and even if it meant he had to go without, helping others came first. Rojo could be stubborn in such things sometimes.

[Seven]

Now that Rojo was moving, he could see how much he was bleeding. "Rojo--stop moving!!' he fretted a bit, now running over to him. Honestly, between these two and their stuborness.....

"Sit down already," he said to Rojo, in an almost mothery tone. He simply would not have people dying on him. But he saw that Rojo wouldn't allow himself to be helped until Evening was.....
Oh dear goddess, why hadn't he taken the course in healing magic? Why?

He looked over at Evening again, "Rojo is correct--you are not in our debt. The battle was ours to begin with, but you helped us out. So please, Miss Evening, stop being stubborn and allow us to return the favor," he said with slight anxious tone. Blood was already gushing out of the two of them as it was, so he had to make a convincing arguement less he wanted them to die debating.

No, this was getting ridiculous. "Jenri--stop your crying and get over here!" he gave a loud shout. The arguing was getting nowwhere. The driver, fumbled with the carriage door knob, but managed to pull himself out. Devon could be harsh when necessary. After all, he was a noble--and weren't nobles supposed to be good at commanding people?

"I take it back--I've had enough of this arguing. Both of you sit back already," he said in declaritive manner, no longer trying to sweetly appeal to their logics. "Jenri, please aid Sir Rojo, I shall assist Miss Evening," he cooly said with a sharp glint in his eye. After all, Evening was more likely to be stubborn, lash out, or try and run away, as he sensed lingering and defiant hostility in her.

Without saying anything further, Devon bent down beside her. Devon was being serious now, he wasn't giving her the choice of being healed this time. Instead, he just went right ahead, moving her hand from her wound to go ahead and do it. Jenri still looked a little spacey, but fortunately for Rojo he hadn't been that drunk and was already sobbering up a bit (he had years of drinking to develop a tolerance, you know). The Fleshmoss may not have been as good as the medicine and herbs Devon carried in his carriage, but they were probably close. After all, the Shire family could afford the best of everything. And so, Jenri proceeded to follow Devon's example.

[Asila]

When Rojo told her that she didn't owe them anything, and with such a charming little insult placed before the statement, Evening nearly began to argue. She ignored his comment about bringing trouble to them. She'd figured as much. Rojo had seemed to know what they were dealing with. She assumed that Devon was his friend, since she now thought that Shadow had just been some kind of elemental creature that one of them had summoned.

But before she could begin her argument about debt, she noticed that he was bleeding very badly and she quickly looked away, developing a headache as she fought to keep the memories at bay.

"I think you need the stuff more than I do. This wound isn't going to kill me, but if you keep bleeding like that..." It definately seemed to her as though he was in more danger. Of course, she couldn't know this for sure, since she hadn't even looked at her own wound. And even if she had been dying, and was aware of the fact, she would probably say such a thing out of pride. However, in this case, her injury would not kill her. The blood loss, while bad, was not drastic, and while the muscles in her stomach had been sliced fairly deeply, making this a painful injury, the organs that lay just beneath had not been harmed. This was lucky, because the Darkling had very nearly run her through. She was fortunate that her reactions were so quick. If she'd been any slower, she would have been gutted.

Either way, she wasn't worried about her injury at all. She was worried about the blood. She didn't want to see the massacre again, and at this rate, that outcome was inevitable. Still, she was intent on avoiding this, so much so that trying to force a treatment on her was hardly a wise thing to do.

She only moved her glare to Devon when he tried to assure her that she didn't owe them anything. What did they know? Their race was an ignorant one, as the Tallamous were always so keen to point out to their children. She would have said something to this effect, but Devon seemed intent on helping her even if he was injured trying, so she didn't get the chance. She nearly clawed him when he pulled her arm away from the wound, her free hand shifting convulsively. But her main concern was not to attack him for being too pushy. It was to keep herself from seeing the wound. If she had to look at any more blood, she was going to lose it. The tolerance she had developed for this phobia had already been strained. So she quickly shut her eyes and froze, her breathing quick, nearly panicked, as she tried to stop the flashbacks from coming.

She was sure that they must think she was pathetic, probably having assumed that she didn't have any pain tolerance and was an overall wimp. This agitated her, but there was nothing she could do to stop her reaction. They were lucky she had been able to keep the memories back, to keep herself from screaming. It was all she could manage.

[Rojo]

Rojo grumbled about "being fine" and "not needing any medical treatment" but complied with Jenri just the same. He had pulled the dagger out about a quater of an inch when pain exploded in his arm. He grimaced at the pain and let go of the knife. It had small spiked rivets placed up and down it, so it ripped more flesh on exit than on entrace. What was more was that they were at irregular intervals, so they did even more damage. Who ever had made this weapon was a real cold-hearted bastard.

He got ready for the pain he was about to recieve, placed his left hand on the dagger, and pulled very hard.
The dagger came out with a 'Splurch' noise and Rojo dropped it immediatly as white hot pain had filled his shoulder. He made a very sour face and bit his lip. It was like somone had taken a blade, hot off the anvil and thrust it through his arm. He rocked backward slightly. He did a quick spell to numb the pain slightly and let Jenri do his work. As the driver was doing this, he continuely muttered
"Owowowowowowowowow..." under his breath.

Shadow was thinking. Why had She sent her guard after him? He thought she considered him a lost cause? This was confusing, so he fell asleep to conserve his energy.

If Evening had voiced her thoughts, Rojo would have laughed and reassured her that she was not a wimp, becuase fighting off two highly-trained Darklings was some feat for someone who had never heard of or seen one before, but as he was too busy with his "ows", he couldn't even if she had said.

[Seven]

Devon could only wonder what insults the Tallamous girl must have had for him as he tried to apply the Fleshmoss and bandage the wound. He decided to keep his mouth shut, as he assumed anything else he could say would probably only anger her more. Tallamous where characteristic for their stubbornness, and Evening was a prime example.

Though she might have been telling the truth about being able to heal herself, one could never take too many precautions when it came to health. Why, just letting it sit there might cause an infection, assuming of course she didn't bleed to death. After all, humans weren't as physically hardy as Tallamous, so it would have been easy to think that the bleeding would be dangerous for her.

Furthermore, she was obviously in pain, so why continue being stubborn? Was it so terrible for a Tallamous to accept help from a human--even if it meant they were in their debt? He inwardly sighed. There were always people like that, not just the Tallamous, and he thought them all to be terribly silly. He felt it would be like if he tried to convince her that he wa better than Rojo or her because of the random chance of being born into nobility.

He didn't realize she had hematophobia...
Though he noticed her squeeze her eyes shut, he would have just thought it was because of the pain; not that he held that against her. Devon had been lucky to get out of the fight practically unscratched, and now it was his duty and moral obligation to ensure the other two came out alright as well.

His white gloves quickly turned a crimson shade as they were soaked with her blood. Under normal circumstances, this would have provoked a reaction from the young lord, but he was so engrossed in his work, in making sure she was alright, he didn't even notice.

Devon finished up the bandaging and looked over to Jenri and Rojo's spot on the ground. "How is he?" he called over. "Ay Master, those demons' weapons were jagged. The exit wound is worse than the entry...but I think he should be alright. No major tendons or nuttin'..."

Devon smiled, a small sigh of relief escaping him. It seemed everything would more or less turn out alright.

[Asila]

Until Devon's movements had ceased, Evening did not relax. At all. It was difficult, having to depend on someone else for something. It was the type of situation that she would rather avoid, though in this circumstance, there was little she could do. Except, perhaps, to insult Devon for being an irritating, assertive noble.

It sounded like a plan to her. She opened her eyes...well, not entirely, since she left them narrowed, and began with "Are your social skills always this offensive?" She would have continued along this line, having much to say on the topic, but she caught a glimpse of her blood on Devon's hands and turned away again, her mind reeling. Sure, just when she had managed to compose herself with thought's of Devons infuriating habits, she catches yet another glimpse of blood and her mind begins to unravel again.

For something to focus on, she sat up slowly. This was more complicated, and agonising, than it sounded. There was no way to sit up that would completely avoid strain on the abdominal muscles. Wincing, she managed it, and looked pointedly into the distance. She leaned on her arms, which worked out well for her, since both of them were now smeared by her blood. They were better off where she couldn't see them.

She thought for a moment, wondering what she was going to do now that she was indebted to these humans for helping her. Devon might have been onto something earlier, when he said that she had helped them in that battle and therefor did not owe them anything. However, she didn't really see it that way. It felt as though she had fought only to defend herself. And to make things worse, Devon had actually stepped in to help her with the second Darkling. And Rojo had given her the supplies needed to treat the wound she had sustained...by her own failure to focus, so the injury was her fault and did not, in any way, ease her debt to them. It wasn't as though she'd been injured trying to defend one of them. She'd gotten hurt becuase she hadn't reacted fast enough.

She sighed. No matter how she added it up, she owed them for their charity. Which meant that she was stuck with them until she could repay them in some way. Wonderful. It seemed she'd be going to the village with them after all. Not a happy thought.

Of course, she was not being entirely honest with herself. She was not so honorable that she'd travel with these humans just to repay what amounted to a rather trivial debt. If she could only admit it to herself, the truth was that she'd found this pair rather likeable in the end, and didn't want to return to solitude so soon. If ever. It really wasn't all that enjoyable.

So she would stay with them, though she would act all the while that she still held a grudge.

"Wonderful. Now I'm stuck with the two of you until I can repay you." She grumbled, as though she couldn't imagine a worse fate.

[Rojo]

Rojo stood up gingerly to test his feet. He turned to Jenri
"Thank you very much, Master...Jenri, was it?" he gave the driver an assuring grin incase he was afraid more "demons" would attack the carriage.

He walked over to the other two, and knelt down to Evening, the bandage around his shoulder had been covered up, but if one looked closely, they would noticed a patch slightly redder that the rest of his shirt.
"Here" he said kindly, holding out his hand so the palm faced Evening's wound. His hand glowed brightly with a light blue for a moment, as he casted the spell which would numb the pain in her stomach slightly, and help with the healing.

"Hmm, if it were up to me I'd gladly let you accompany us, but as it is not my coach, it is not up to me" he stood up "your choice, Devs" he said, adopting a sort of nickname for Devon.

Shadow still slept peacefully in the carriage.

[Seven]

"Well, I have no problem with it..." he looked up at Rojo, noticing the red patch under his shirt. Had Rojo been stabbed there as well? He noticed his staring was making him a little absent minded in the conversation. "I mean...the more the merry, right?" he said with an unusual ease. After all, nobles didn't just randomly pick up stray people and allow them to tag along. "But it doesn't sound like you exactly want to come with us, Evening. You really don't need to force yourself to come just to repay us...."

In the end, it she would inevitable accumulate more debts to pay off, once you consider that she'd be eating Devon's food, traveling in his carriage, and probably ending up using Devon's money. After all, he was the only one in possession of the current Veneran currency....

Devon looked up, smiling a little when Rojo called him 'Devs.' He'd never had a nickname before, it was kind of funny. But the dark patch on Rojo's shirt worries him, "Rojo...you weren't injured in your abdomen...were you?"