— @daespair : “ is that your blood? ”
freyr is weary as he walks forth as though the recent battle has sapped all his energy — and maybe it has, with the way he had to cast magicks to push through, to turn the tides. though exhaustion turns to hesitation when he spots the miqo’te and her scrutinising gaze. leporine ears tilts back and he cannot help the slight warning growl that rips its way from his throat, adrenaline still spiked from the fight. he does not know this woman, nor does he want her anywhere near him, until she speaks, until she questions the blood that stains him, and he softens some. enough to temper his attitude. still, he is a wary one, untrusting in nature, and wounded as he is ( he knows that some are bordering life-threatening if not seen to soon and he cannot use any aether to help himself, not now, not after using it battle just prior ), and so he does not move forward, watching the miqo’te carefully.
“ friend or foe ? ” he calls, shoulders starting to slump and the pressure he was keeping on the largest wound starting to ease as darkness blots out his vision for a brief moment. a few seconds pass, near swaying on his feet before knees finally buckle, sending freyr to the hard ground. “ gods, i hope you’re a friend — i think i need one right now. ”
