His superiors were quite adamant when it came to this mission, but the notion of survival had always made everything more crucial to the point of desperation, so he understood why they were like so when they gave him this task. They simply couldn’t afford to wither away and vanish— there were still so many planets, all inhibited by creatures that knew nothing of peace, nothing of the message they intended to bring. They were scholars, arbitrators, excelling in ushering peace and encouraging love and harmony; they were a good species, but they needed a new home.
Thinking that it would be easy since humans were thought to be extinct, he expected the mission to be over soon, and not to end up in this sort of predicament. It was clear that he didn’t know what to do at this point, and tried his best to assess the situation properly, but it had proven to be rather difficult.
They never told him what to do when he encountered a human, they only told him to observe. Oh, how he wished he could have some guidance, but alas, there was no one around to help, and so, improvising would have to do for now.
Gingerly, he took the other’s palm and placed it over the gashing wound for more pressure. The more, the better— at least, it was what he had learned from tending to other races.
"Look at me," Axel searched for the other’s eyes in clear dismay, lightly tapping his cheek to capture his attention. "You must apply pressure, do you understand? It’s crucial. You musn’t—" A sigh. "Never remove your hands off the wound. Keep applying pressure."
The straining sense of trepidation was awful, and if he had the option to use his Heal spray on the other then he would, gladly, but that would mean jeopardizing his mission and that would surely turn out bad. He needed a solution, and a quick one indeed.
"Hospital," he then said. "Do you know where the nearest hospital is? Or— your residence, anything. Medical equipment—" Axel tapped his cheek again. "We need medical equipment, you need medical equipment. Stay awake, you must stay awake. Are you listening to me?"
They were meant to appear so polite, and helpful, don't they? Suddenly, Jared's awareness of the possibilities that this may be a trap allowed his pride to climb up. Blood continued to soak his shirt, while color subsequently left his lips, the deep circles under his eyes now a bit purplish. He struggled to move away to no avail -- he was the one who sought for help after all. But was it worth it?
He always planned to keep on fighting until death, and if this man is one of the invaders, that's him done -- helplessly taken. All that bullshit about dying in martyrdom now flushed down the latrine.
Green eyes -- or was it just the play of colours now that his vision was starting to blur? Either way, those eyes weren't ringed with silver. Still human. To Jared, that was impossible, but he didn't have enough strength to inquire. The stranger's words were precise, but the tone was reassuring enough. Jared had to push back the thoughts about these parasites being great pretenders -- mimicking their host's personalities with ease since they were known to suck in even human memories. Disgusting. Right now, he was being much of a parasite himself. He could hardly move a finger anymore, his body completely failing him.
The vagabond only managed a fraction of a nod, his pressure possibly not strong enough to stop his bleeding, but he attempted anyway. "Okay..." He rasped out, followed by another cough as the mere vibration of sounds caused to irate his baked throat. His face contorted in panic, like his wound suddenly opened wider at his coughing.
Needless to say, he was actually afraid to die. "H-help..." His lids were growing heavier over his eyes, his body trembling, his skin growing clammier despite the turbid humidity of the air. "T-two miles." He grunted out, consciousness almost impossible to maintain. "North. Two.. miles... north." And then his eyes slid shut, although his breathing pattern remained shallow and compensating.
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