[She doesn't remember until his hands touch them and his fingers curl around the golden falcon. That she's wearing the bracers he'd gifted her when she thought they were friends. How stupid she feels now, in this moment, that she had put so much thought into how to thank him, that she had flustered and shied like some sort of stupid woman when he'd said they looked handsome on her.
Hayame cannot relax.
But she tries not to fight him, to let him do whatever he thinks will fix this and return her to something closer to full fighting strength. For Meridian. For being able to return home. Her other hand stays clasped over her mouth, not just for nausea, but because she does not want him (anyone) to hear what she sounds like in pain. The whimpering is swallowed, muffled as he pulls her arm slowly upward and the bone grates on bone, wrenched muscle and tendons spasming and struggling to return to their natural positions. She growls to try and cover a whine, her flanks clenching and fetlocks curling, tensing the closer he gets to pulling her arm even, but then-
Her shoulder pops back into place with a last flare of pain that then dies into throbbing aches. Her arm twitches. She's sweating.
... What if she just stays there, on her belly on the "forest" floor near her own sick and the lingering scent of Amos' blood? For a moment... she considers it. Just giving up. If she hadn't known such an essential, intrinsic thing about Liem of all people... ? Fear and paranoia worm their way into her hearts in the wake of the wounds Amos' spell had left on them. Set and Akua had seemed to admit the worst of their crimes, but could there be more? Claude... Claude had lied about his own name, about being a king, he was still lying to almost everyone else about it... and she thought he might not be hiding anything else?
She is staring at the ground, but she isn't seeing it. If she lets herself focus, she will look at Liem and she will demand to know once more why he had hid this from her. She will try to interrogate him over just what the hell he was, how much blood he'd been drinking. She... finally drops her hand from her mouth, braces herself on a knee instead.]
Go.
[You liar, you blood-drinking liar, helping her with her shoulder now as if he could trick her into thinking he was the same Liem she had trusted an hour before.]
... I will guard the rear this time.
[They just had to make it back to camp with what they had stolen back. After that...
no subject
Hayame cannot relax.
But she tries not to fight him, to let him do whatever he thinks will fix this and return her to something closer to full fighting strength. For Meridian. For being able to return home. Her other hand stays clasped over her mouth, not just for nausea, but because she does not want him (anyone) to hear what she sounds like in pain. The whimpering is swallowed, muffled as he pulls her arm slowly upward and the bone grates on bone, wrenched muscle and tendons spasming and struggling to return to their natural positions. She growls to try and cover a whine, her flanks clenching and fetlocks curling, tensing the closer he gets to pulling her arm even, but then-
Her shoulder pops back into place with a last flare of pain that then dies into throbbing aches. Her arm twitches. She's sweating.
... What if she just stays there, on her belly on the "forest" floor near her own sick and the lingering scent of Amos' blood? For a moment... she considers it. Just giving up. If she hadn't known such an essential, intrinsic thing about Liem of all people... ? Fear and paranoia worm their way into her hearts in the wake of the wounds Amos' spell had left on them. Set and Akua had seemed to admit the worst of their crimes, but could there be more? Claude... Claude had lied about his own name, about being a king, he was still lying to almost everyone else about it... and she thought he might not be hiding anything else?
She is staring at the ground, but she isn't seeing it. If she lets herself focus, she will look at Liem and she will demand to know once more why he had hid this from her. She will try to interrogate him over just what the hell he was, how much blood he'd been drinking. She... finally drops her hand from her mouth, braces herself on a knee instead.]
Go.
[You liar, you blood-drinking liar, helping her with her shoulder now as if he could trick her into thinking he was the same Liem she had trusted an hour before.]
... I will guard the rear this time.
[They just had to make it back to camp with what they had stolen back. After that...
After that...]