End of the Line
A drabble resulting from a Tumblr Ask - Send me ⚠ to find my muse at the end of a trail of blood.
How had it come to this…?
Their journey to the far East was supposed to be one filled with adventure and gaiety; the very opposite of this. Erethys clung to a wound in his side, his glamour flickering. He couldn’t return to his normal form; not here, not ever. If he had any chance for survival, he must needs attempt to retain his Auri form for as long as possible. The sands of Onokoro drank greedily of his blood, offered unto them by the blade lovingly nestled between his ribs.
Damnit.
Erethys’ knees gave out underneath him, his body crashing with nary a care into the soaked earth. Curling up, the dragon offered a few more choice curse words, muttering something of regret for not paying as close attention to the healing artes as he might have, say, dancing. A broken smiled wormed its way onto his lips as he rolled onto his back, allowing his body to bathe in the warm sun.
Well, at least it was a beautiful place to die, and not the barren wastelands of Coerthas.
A rush of footsteps caught his attention, followed by a mortified scream and the sound of knees hitting sand. Erethys glanced up through lidded eyes, still smiling.
“It seems I’ve managed to find myself in trouble yet again, hmn?” He joked, shaking his head. “I… do not think it fatal, but I would appreciate some aid sooner rather than later.”