@umbralrosa // ⑉ ⑉ ⑉ ⑉ ⑉ ⑉ ⑉ ⑉ ⑉ ⑉ ⑉ ⑉ ⑉ ⑉ ⑉ ⑉ ⑉ ⑉ ⑉ ⑉ ⑉ ⑉
She didn’t make it soon enough to her castle. This rarely happens in instances there are no caves or abandoned places to hide away in, where she must make a fast journey to her territory for her safety. Apparently, not even in the thick trees and brush of her forest, was she safe. A place where demons and humans alike could not ever enter lest they were fed to the garden. Her servants crowding in great numbers around their master to ensure she wasn’t messed with or hurt herself at all, and they didn’t do anything even when she wanted the cold so very much in that moment.
The winter air was not enough to aid in the overheating of her body -- littered with scars in a very unique case only every solar eclipse. Her usually pristine and untouched body covered head to toe in marred spaces from long to wide in various size. Her eyes half-open from exhaustion, kimono somewhere in the long grass and moss as she lies on her side in a partial fetal position.
To the demon that met her prior, who knew her to stand tall and imposing even before something like him, she must be absolutely pitiful to look at. He was safe from the dense trees, but it didn’t matter for her. The solar eclipse was an overall arching nemesis to her body regardless if she was in line of its light or not.
When she feels a cold finger brush the longest scar on her body along the midsection up to her collarbone, an ugly serrated shape at its edges. She shivers in assumption it was another phantom pain. The time she was sawed in half, from groin up to her neck. The heat that combat against his cold was something else entirely, like a double-fold fever struck these places specifically. It seemed all the big scars were done with forming, leaving just the newly forming hot red-violet ones to show up from the few scrapes and scratches she earned in her last few adolescent years.
Her breathing was irregular, as if being strangled. Her heartrate non-existent from its undoubtfully shocked state -- if anything is to garner from the massive star-like formation where it would be. The times she was revoked of that organ specifically.
“H-here to... Kill me... Wh-en I’m downed?” she says, her voice even worse than her breathing, incredibly hoarse and muffled. A deep scar ran around her entire neck, and a few more layers of deeper pink shade in the front of the windpipe from where she was both beheaded and her throat slit. She didn’t even look at him. Didn’t need to - to know he was behind her, or in front of her now? She can’t tell properly. The scar across both her eyes from an attempt to gouge her sight made her vision unbelievably bright and blurry. Thankfully, her sense of feeling wasn’t numb like the rest of her senses.
Muzan is more capable than he’s led her to believe. He can tell something’s wrong, judging by the fact that he hasn’t seen or heard from her in a while--usually their little.. conversations are what keeps him on his toes. The humans just don’t have that spark-- and the demons can’t even compete.
It was even worse to see her curled and in pain on the ground, scarred, her kimono discarded on the ground a little ways away. He finds himself moving, his feet taking him to her side. He doesn’t know why he’s so interested--perhaps it’s because she’s just as old as he is.
Perhaps that’s why he’s feeling such kinship with her-- and that’s magnified further when he sees the scars.
So she understands, he thinks, as his fingers trace one of the worse ones.
He wouldn’t call it ugly--it’s merely serrated. Painful.
To see her reduced to this--so pained, breathing hard, destroyed down to this is very unnerving.
His fingers trace the scars, piece by piece by piece, and he only speaks after he’s finished. “Not quite. I missed our sparkling conversations so I decided to locate you. Fortunately, might I add.”
The trees protected him--but they didn’t have the same effect on her.
He gently wraps the kimono around her, picks her up, and then he was gone, back to the labyrinth of his infinity castle. “You will rest until this passes,” he says, “I’ll take you to a room, and should you need anything, you can call on me.”
“And when everything is done and you are better, you are free to leave as you desire.”
But until then, she would be under his watchful eye. “To be laying out in the open like that--you were probably trying to make it home,” it’s an easy conclusion to make. “I can at least provide a room to you until whatever is plaguing you is over--or until you recuperate.”
