[Liem doesn't spot her until she pushes herself half upright, her silhouette rising more obviously against the faint outlines of the surrounding trees. The world around him is a watercolour painting of blacks and dark greys, spied blearily through heavy lids as blood continues to weep down his face, and he can't manage so much as a twitch closer to bring it into focus. All he can see is the vaguely moving shape of his companion, and all he can smell is the overpowering tang of blood—but at least the grass beneath his cheek is rough and clean.]
Ha… yame…
[His lungs barely want to move—drawing in even a small breath is an exhausting effort—but he tries this time to make his lips form all the syllables of her name. It comes out as a slow, painstaking murmur.]
Hhh…
[Did they kill it after all, then? Does she know? He can't find the breath to ask, can't even find the breath to warm his lungs as cold seeps up from the ground to grip him tight. He can't tell how badly hurt she is from here, but they're deep in the woods now, and if she can't see, he wonders how long it will be before some creature comes to claim them both. Maybe not very long at all.
The dull, throbbing waves of ache riddling his body ice over gradually, going still and heavy. He tries to speak again, to call Hayame closer before consciousness deserts him a second time, but even that is now beyond him. He should comfort her, at least. Tell her where he is. What if she thinks she's alone? He should tell her…
But the fog closes in. The slight, slow rise and fall of his chest falters to a stop. The seep of blood from his punctured body drips gradually into stillness. And, first slowly, and then almost all at once, the pale and motionless figure collapsed on the ground melts away, leaving behind only a cool, eight-pointed stone.]
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Ha… yame…
[His lungs barely want to move—drawing in even a small breath is an exhausting effort—but he tries this time to make his lips form all the syllables of her name. It comes out as a slow, painstaking murmur.]
Hhh…
[Did they kill it after all, then? Does she know? He can't find the breath to ask, can't even find the breath to warm his lungs as cold seeps up from the ground to grip him tight. He can't tell how badly hurt she is from here, but they're deep in the woods now, and if she can't see, he wonders how long it will be before some creature comes to claim them both. Maybe not very long at all.
The dull, throbbing waves of ache riddling his body ice over gradually, going still and heavy. He tries to speak again, to call Hayame closer before consciousness deserts him a second time, but even that is now beyond him. He should comfort her, at least. Tell her where he is. What if she thinks she's alone? He should tell her…
But the fog closes in. The slight, slow rise and fall of his chest falters to a stop. The seep of blood from his punctured body drips gradually into stillness. And, first slowly, and then almost all at once, the pale and motionless figure collapsed on the ground melts away, leaving behind only a cool, eight-pointed stone.]