06-21-2017, 12:11 AM
The next time Pinay awoke, her mind was calm and her eyes were clear. Her body still ached, but the pain had faded to a dull and distant throb.
The hollow foundations of an enormous fallen tree loomed above her, which some enterprising person had converted into a passable sort of hut. A tangled, broken root-system, woven with sticks and reeds and sealed with clay arched overhead, sunlight streaming in through a single chimney-hole, providing shelter from the elements. A sort of hardened mud cement had been formed around a framework of sturdy wooden boughs and tightly braided vines to make a pair of curved, sturdy walls. The builder had even taken the time to pack flat stones into the earthen floor, surrounding a firepit. A blanket was stretched across the door, trapping the the hut's damp, earthy scents of ash and decomposing wood.
Beneath her was a bed of woven grasses, and she was naked except for a stained linen blanket.
Pinay sat up, fighting down a wave of dizziness as the blood rushed to her head and spots swam before her eyes. She blinked hard to reset her focus, and vague memories of the previous night's wordless conversation flickered brightly in her mind. As far as she could tell, she was alone. She reached for the blanket, which had tumbled from around her slim shoulders when she stirred - and inhaled sharply at the sight of her arms.
The elf's golden skin hosted a web of pale yellow scars, starkly visible even in the dimly sunlit hut. She was alternately wrinkled and smooth, a patchwork of textures and fractal-branching ridges telling a gripping story of hideous damage repaired. Suddenly frantic, Pinay kicked the blanket off herself, trying very hard to keep her breathing under control as she examined her body. Cautiously, horrified at what she might find, she touched her face with trembling hands; her brows, the top of her head. The damage was everywhere. She was as bald as a mountaintop stone: From head to toe the ridges and plains of leathery scarring covered every inch of her lithe, angular form save for the bottoms of her feet and her back.
Her thoughts tumbled down into a pit of nauseating realization: the monster's breath had torn her flesh apart.
Pinay's breath quickened beyond her control, and her stomach clenched as though she'd been struck with a club. She curled into a ball, shaking and sweating as Jushap's final moments flashed in her minds eye, the heat and the smell so vividly real that she cried aloud. The former mender began to gasp for air, unable to relax her throat as a static born of senseless animalistic fear jammed her psyche.
Abruptly, she was no longer alone. A breath of cool air wafted through the elf's brain, cutting through the fires of panic.
"Your're fine. You're safe. Breathe deeply, and slowly. I'm nearby, dear, and I'll be with you soon..."
The helpful stranger's voice continued, calm and confident, but Pinay wasn't listening to the words. It was the presence that was important; The input made her brain move, allowed her act. She didn't even wonder that the words were inside her mind - telepathy wasn't unheard of among her people, and it just didn't seem important.
Pinay focused on her diaphragm, forcing herself to take deep, shuddering breaths, and to hold them without gasping. Slowly, ever so slowly, her body began to relax.
By the time the door to the hut was pushed aside, she'd put herself together enough to be desperately curious.
The hollow foundations of an enormous fallen tree loomed above her, which some enterprising person had converted into a passable sort of hut. A tangled, broken root-system, woven with sticks and reeds and sealed with clay arched overhead, sunlight streaming in through a single chimney-hole, providing shelter from the elements. A sort of hardened mud cement had been formed around a framework of sturdy wooden boughs and tightly braided vines to make a pair of curved, sturdy walls. The builder had even taken the time to pack flat stones into the earthen floor, surrounding a firepit. A blanket was stretched across the door, trapping the the hut's damp, earthy scents of ash and decomposing wood.
Beneath her was a bed of woven grasses, and she was naked except for a stained linen blanket.
Pinay sat up, fighting down a wave of dizziness as the blood rushed to her head and spots swam before her eyes. She blinked hard to reset her focus, and vague memories of the previous night's wordless conversation flickered brightly in her mind. As far as she could tell, she was alone. She reached for the blanket, which had tumbled from around her slim shoulders when she stirred - and inhaled sharply at the sight of her arms.
The elf's golden skin hosted a web of pale yellow scars, starkly visible even in the dimly sunlit hut. She was alternately wrinkled and smooth, a patchwork of textures and fractal-branching ridges telling a gripping story of hideous damage repaired. Suddenly frantic, Pinay kicked the blanket off herself, trying very hard to keep her breathing under control as she examined her body. Cautiously, horrified at what she might find, she touched her face with trembling hands; her brows, the top of her head. The damage was everywhere. She was as bald as a mountaintop stone: From head to toe the ridges and plains of leathery scarring covered every inch of her lithe, angular form save for the bottoms of her feet and her back.
Her thoughts tumbled down into a pit of nauseating realization: the monster's breath had torn her flesh apart.
Pinay's breath quickened beyond her control, and her stomach clenched as though she'd been struck with a club. She curled into a ball, shaking and sweating as Jushap's final moments flashed in her minds eye, the heat and the smell so vividly real that she cried aloud. The former mender began to gasp for air, unable to relax her throat as a static born of senseless animalistic fear jammed her psyche.
Abruptly, she was no longer alone. A breath of cool air wafted through the elf's brain, cutting through the fires of panic.
"Your're fine. You're safe. Breathe deeply, and slowly. I'm nearby, dear, and I'll be with you soon..."
The helpful stranger's voice continued, calm and confident, but Pinay wasn't listening to the words. It was the presence that was important; The input made her brain move, allowed her act. She didn't even wonder that the words were inside her mind - telepathy wasn't unheard of among her people, and it just didn't seem important.
Pinay focused on her diaphragm, forcing herself to take deep, shuddering breaths, and to hold them without gasping. Slowly, ever so slowly, her body began to relax.
By the time the door to the hut was pushed aside, she'd put herself together enough to be desperately curious.