[... Good. He had sense. She has no extra space in her mind, now, to contemplate what it means that he claims to be experienced in hiding trails. It could mean anything, and now everything hurts, she's so tired, and cold-
And then he is moving towards her. Towards her face. She looks towards him sharply, revealing more clearly what she had been hiding. Where an eye was supposed to be... there was simply nothing but a gaping absence. Her eyelids are perfectly formed, the hole is framed by lush, black lashes. There is not a single trace of scar or burn or deformation... because the demon who had reached in, severed the optic nerve, and plucked out her eyeball had been so skilled and so fast that he'd left her perfect except for the mark of humiliation and loss. She would snap and snarl if she had the energy... but she doesn't, and her flinch away is too slow.
... He just put the eyepatch back. Sharp teeth dig into her bottom lip, and she swallows insults and defensive barks to instead simply take the cloak. She had some measure of sense, too, beneath the passion and the determination- enough to obey and weakly press down on the fabric as it begins to soak up crimson.
But though Yuri is not gone long... Hayame has grown worse in his absence. Large bodies, equine bodies, were more susceptible to shock, and though she had tried to fight through it to get this far... she is paler than when he'd left. The cloak is brighter and wetter. The upper body she'd fought to keep off the ground is on it, though her hands at least still vainly press. She'd found herself hoping for him to return faster, to use that accursed magic on her no matter the disgrace, but if... if it did not work-]
Tell...
[Hayame swallows heavily once she hears boots coming closer. It had to be him, she just can't see yet-]
If I dissipate, tell-
[There's blood in her mouth, and it muddles what she's trying to say. (Though a keen listener might at least get out a hard "C-")]
cw: eye gore
And then he is moving towards her. Towards her face. She looks towards him sharply, revealing more clearly what she had been hiding. Where an eye was supposed to be... there was simply nothing but a gaping absence. Her eyelids are perfectly formed, the hole is framed by lush, black lashes. There is not a single trace of scar or burn or deformation... because the demon who had reached in, severed the optic nerve, and plucked out her eyeball had been so skilled and so fast that he'd left her perfect except for the mark of humiliation and loss. She would snap and snarl if she had the energy... but she doesn't, and her flinch away is too slow.
... He just put the eyepatch back. Sharp teeth dig into her bottom lip, and she swallows insults and defensive barks to instead simply take the cloak. She had some measure of sense, too, beneath the passion and the determination- enough to obey and weakly press down on the fabric as it begins to soak up crimson.
But though Yuri is not gone long... Hayame has grown worse in his absence. Large bodies, equine bodies, were more susceptible to shock, and though she had tried to fight through it to get this far... she is paler than when he'd left. The cloak is brighter and wetter. The upper body she'd fought to keep off the ground is on it, though her hands at least still vainly press. She'd found herself hoping for him to return faster, to use that accursed magic on her no matter the disgrace, but if... if it did not work-]
Tell...
[Hayame swallows heavily once she hears boots coming closer. It had to be him, she just can't see yet-]
If I dissipate, tell-
[There's blood in her mouth, and it muddles what she's trying to say. (Though a keen listener might at least get out a hard "C-")]