He was sitting up, at least. Oh, no wait. He’d already done that. Yes, standing now. Right. Standing and leaning on Violence.
What..?
His face pulled into a weary frown and he looked at her. Yeah, see? That wasn’t Violence. Vi had no reason to have him leaning on her when she could just puppet him wherever the hell she wanted him to go. Damn, and that would be so handy right about now, to just be able to sit back and get lost in the recesses of his mind and not have to feel all of this shit. So, no. Certainly wasn’t Vi. Couldn’t decide if that was a good or bad thing just then.
Oh, but he did know that face. His dear, deadly Dagger come to finally kill him. Hmm, hadn’t she nearly done that before? Couldn’t remember. Probably, though. Hell, at least it would beat walking.
”Good. Now walk. We can’t stay here.”
Fuck, see? He knew she was trying to kill him.
Goddamn walking.
She seemed to hold his weight well enough, though progress was dreadfully slow. Didn’t bother him one bit, she was the one in the hurry. To get where, again? She’d probably said so. Hm, forgotten again, maybe. Remembered that they couldn’t stay here though, and he glanced away, his eyes squinting against the sunlight. Somehow everything had been much darker when he’d been on the ground. Why was he looking..? Oh, yes. Where was here. Here was… the Meadow. Okay, cool.
...Why’d he want to know that again?
”Vi - ?” he turned back to her. Oh, right. Not Violence. ”Dagger,” he sighed with a smile, losing his nose in her hair again. Must have stopped walking to peek around, so he began again, carefully placing the tip of his hoof before easing his weight on it to take another step, blood only very slowly spilling down his legs now. Had trouble keeping his thoughts together, but her scent seemed to help, so he didn’t even watch where they were going, just let her support some of his weight as he walked with her.
Hadn’t she tried to kill him before? Well, she wasn’t now, not unless this damn walking really was her medium for murder in which case she’d be sadly disappointed when his fragmented mind came back to him and his body worked through some of this damage. Trained to accept it, after all, and was pretty successful at ignoring it just then. Besides, nothing ever fucking killed him. It was only a bit irritating that his muscles wouldn’t cooperate as quickly as he wanted them to, and his legs trembled threateningly under his weight.
His thoughts were clearing just a little more, and her scent registered in a different way, brought up a long ago memory. She’d taken his sight and he’d reached for her, gently brushed his lips along her neck like he was doing now. Mmm, he hummed. That had been a good memory, hadn’t it? He stopped doing that though, returning his nose to her hair and reclaiming a little more of his weight as his strength so slowly came back to him.
”Heartfire,” he whispered, not even realizing that he’d said it aloud. At least he remembered her name. Had forgotten so many of them. And why was he still smiling? Something about this was terribly amusing, but he couldn’t quite put the joke together in his mind. They were enemies, after all, weren’t they? So strange that he was enjoying her here. Must be a joke somewhere. He’d figure it out later.
”Water.” He was fucking parched. If she was going to play babysitter, she may as well do it right. She could thank him later.
I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies
I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife
