Different circumstances. Yes, that would have been nice. The chance to see who he was talking to, to not require being led to such a basic necessity as the fresh water that flowed close by. A different day, with a different him would have made this... pleasant. He grunts in acknowledgment of her comment on his injury. He was hurt, inside and out. Demons clawed at the darkness behind his eyes, begging him to sleep so they could gnaw at his slipping soul some more. And his damned skull felt as though it was splitting down the middle.
The pounding ache that had receded when he was drinking was back in full force, driving sparks before him. He groaned and lay back against the pulsing earth. A patch of lush moss grew beneath his head, a willing cushion. It released it's clean, green scent to him, almost enough to wash the pain from his battered frame. Almost.
Through the throbbing, he caught the answer to his next question. Tephra. So he had landed quite a ways away from where he had left. And that would explain the sulfur that hung lightly in the air. The volcano that he had once seen only from a distance must now be much closer, belching gases and magma from it's glowing maw. He wished he could see it. A whisper of hoof on grass draws him back from his grievous musing. Amorette, it must be. Though what she wants from him, he can't guess. Arghhh, if only his head would stop it's hammering, then maybe he could think!
Did he hit it on a rock while he was carried through the sea? Did.... did that cause his sight to abandon him? It wouldn't be the first time a head injury had caused a horse to go blind. If that wad truly the case, all he'd have to do is find a decent healer, and he'd be able to see again! He was about to turn to Amorette, to beg her to examine his face for some sign of injury, when her warm breathy caress brushes his shoulder. It is a moment of pleasurable feeling, immediately eclipsed by a searing heat that rushes across his skin.
The breeze carries away the odor, but not before the hint of singed skin and hair touches his nose. Suddenly, there is a charred, decapitated carcass before him. The head belonging to it leers eyelessly from the darkness, taunting him. A wordless howl tears from the man's throat, a primal sound he didn't know he was capable of making. The next thing he's aware of is that he is now on his feet with his rump butted up to a rough barked tree. Breath slams through his chest as his heart beats a staccato rhythm, the blood of it thundering in his ears.
"What the fuck was that?! What did you do? Are you going to finish the job, finish me off? That's why you're here, isn't it. I thought it was over, but it's not."
What started out as a violent outburst ebbed away until his voice was a broken whisper. He did not notice that his shoulder had not twinged upon standing. This woman had set him on fire, and not in the way he usually liked. Blind eyes cast about in desperation, and he wished she would just get on with it. Kill him, let it be done.
Bragi
It was love from above that could save me from hell
@[Amorette] This is desperately late, I'm so sorry. PTSD can be hard for me to write -.-