@desolate-raven-bones cont. here from the old blog
Revan huffed, brow furrowed, teeth clenched, a grating sound coming from how tightly he pressed his jaw shut against the pain. It wasn’t so much a sharp ache, not something that emanated possible death, not that kind of pain, but almost worse in its deep set throbbing. It felt like his skin was awash in it, his muscles tightened and released and tightened again from it, his bones trembled and shook from it, the very marrow of those bones vibrated with the deep set pain.
“E-English,” he managed to bite out, but there was a trace of an accent under the word, something drawling sounding, something that certainly didn’t belong out at the sea. “Help me….g-get this…damned sweater off…” he huffed, trying to keep an arm wrapped around his lower body but also wriggle into a sitting position. The accent was Southern, thickly so once he had begun talking more, but this surprised him, because there were no memories. Small feelings of humid heat and ice cubes clinking in a sweating glass, and the rhythmic buzz of cicadas and someone screaming after him as his legs pumped harder and faster as he ran away, but even the name was fogged and blurred. There was an emptiness where there should have been a fully stocked life, like a shop with empty shelves and only the dusty circles to show that there had once been anything present.
Felix obliged immediately, helping the man - decidedly an American - struggle out of the soaking jumper. He tossed it to the side ( remembering to rifle through it later for the man’s personal effects ) and jogged to the kitchen. His saddle shoes clicked on the old hardwood and he slid a bit as he skidded to a halt in front of the clear medicine cabinet. Roughly, he fiddled with the glass bottles, trying to be as quick as he could. Felix pulled out a half empty bottle of morphine, a sedative, and cold medicine. He left them on the kitchen counter and returned to the injured man’s side.
“There is a bedroom down hall,” he gestured. “You can rest there. Are you fit to walk, Herr?” Felix prayed that the man avoided any head or spine injuries. If he was well enough to move on his own, however, the lighthouse keeper was confident that he was okay on that front.