I tried to sell my soul last night
Funny, he wouldn't even take a bite
He is no stranger to the scent of blood or the rending of flesh. He has been injured countless times and would undoubtedly be injured countless more. In the moment, the very last thing on his mind is locating a healer. In fact, that is seldom a thought that crosses his mind. Even when he had been dying of infection - one settled deep in the gaping wound where another of the monsters had escaped him - he had not thought to find a healer. It was pure luck that Ryatah had found him, and that she had chosen to heal him rather than leave him to die.
Not that he would have actually died, but he’d sure as hell be a lot more surly if he’d had to do this as a child.
The short, roughly spoken dialogue that had erupted between them in the wake of the brief battle is the only type conversation Ashhal usually has. The succinct questions and clipped tones suit him well. A single, sharp nod is his response to the other stallion’s question, pale features sharpening into a dangerously displeased expression.
“I… unwittingly played host to one,” he grunts back after a moment, his lips - already frowning - deepening into a fierce scowl. For all that he had been healed, a wound that massive could not be closed even by supernatural means without leaving a scar. Though the scar would not last past the end of this lifetime, he would bear it on his shoulder until that time came.
And if the shifting shadows of this unnatural night were any indication, the end of that lifetime might come far sooner than anticipated. Still, Ashhal has been itching to get back at them ever since they’d overwhelmed him in the pit in the netherworld they’d crawled out of (or rather, since he could remember it). He sure as hell wasn’t planning on looking a gift horse in the mouth if it came.
@[Tarian]