unprompted ask // always accepting !!
The weight against her chest burned as Caitlyn's eyelids fluttered. It mind shifted through a fog of confusion, unsure of what happened or why she could barely move. Her head slightly turned to the right, cracking open her eyes. Colors weaved together in a twisted painted mix; orange and brown. Unrecognizable scents tickled her nose as she scrunched her nose slightly and tried to pull herself out of the daze. Ambessa… she couldn't stop fighting, but this wasn't the battlefield anymore.Paw pads slowly brushed up against a soft fabric covering her body, as she rolled her head back so she could try and stare at the dark ceiling. A little light beamed into the room ,but she couldn't see it out of her left eye, so she turned her head. The curtains were drawn close just enough, but the light blue fabric glowed from the sunlight meaning it must be day.Caitlyn tried to sit up, but her muscles couldn't handle her own weight, and she felt as if she was trapped in the bed. Even lifting up her arm took more effort then holding the spear she had used before.Turning her head once more, patterns started to form, and she noticed the red hair of a young woman, laying on the end of the bed. Vi. She rolled her head back against the pillows, still trying to process everything but her mind worked too slowly for her liking. It was only then she could take in another scent, wolverine. Stronger then anything else, as she slowly blinked a few more times, noticing someone running toward the side of the bed. Where was she? ( @valiantthearts )
the room was lined with wooden beams etched with intricate carvings of winding foxes and blooming cherry blossoms, incense burned faintly in a corner, stuffing the air with the scents of cedar and sage. a low table held bowls of herbal concoctions, their purpose unclear but their presence needed. he stood at the edge of the room, his broad shoulders nearly brushing the doorway whilst he watched her stir. his structure was as still as the carved statues guarding the village gates, but inside, a storm raged, fiercely, untamed. the sight of her ( pale, fragile, and struggling to move ) was a punch to the gut he had not braced for. there was a heavy coil in his chest, feeling the weight of guilt shoving his colossal structure into the floor beneath ⸻ he had not left her side since she arrived. and he was not sure how many days, weeks or months had passed since they had found shelter in ionia, surrounded by the greatest healers.
he would pace the length of the room at times, his powerful structure coiled with tension, the lines of his muscles etched deeper as the hours dragged on. he had not slept much. whenever he closed his spheres, he saw her on the battlefield, crumpling under the weight of wounds that even her unshakable strength could not endure. the healers had reassured him she was stable, but what did that mean? stable was not good enough. stable was not caitlyn at full strength, laughing sharply at his stupid jokes or outmanoeuvring him in some sparring session they both knew she would win. stable was not her usual, commanding self, gaze alight with purpose. stable just meant she was not dead... yet. the thought gnawed at him, a relentless predator he could not face.
he recalled, however, on the fourth... or was it the fifth? day of their arrived. he caught himself leaning forward in his chair, his face buried in his calloused hands. his mane hung loose and dishevelled, shadows etched deep under his golden spheres. he could not stop replaying every choice that had led to that moment, wondering if he could have done something differently. could he have been there sooner? fought harder? shielded her better? the thought would make him growl, with nails digging into his palms. but the healers would come and go, murmuring reassurances he barely registered. they worked in silence, their movements serene, as if time was handed freely. as if she was not in danger. sett hated it. how could they be so calm when she was lying there, suspended betwixt life and death?
it was not until the softest sound broke the silence that sett snapped out of his spiralling thoughts. a faint rustle, the barest whisper of movement, came from the bed. his ears twitched, and he was on his feet in an instant, his heart hammering against his ribs. vi, was just the same. ❝ snowflake? ❞ sett hovered by her side, his massive structure blocking out the light as he leaned down, his breath caught in his throat. ❝ you with us? ❞ his vocals were low, rough from days of disuse and raw emotion. he did not even realize how tightly he was gripping the edge of the bed until his claws threatened to tear the fabric. but still, he dared not to touch her. ❝ take it slow, please... ❞
