There’s birds chirping outside Grian’s window as he steps into the living space of his cottage, a bowl of water in his hands and rolls of bandages floating behind him, highlighted in glowing red.
His dark eyes sweep over the two men seated on his couch, and takes in their drastically differing expressions. One of them is smiling, peaceful and content despite the scratches covering his skin. There’s a bruise on his forehead, and his arm is most definitely broken, but he looks completely unbothered by it.
The man next to him is looking off to the side, his arms are crossed over his chest, brows pressed together and sitting low on his forehead. He looks just as injured as his friend, though he appears significantly less pleased about it. There’s a tear in the sleeve of his shirt, and Grian can see the blood drying against his pale skin.
Grian pauses right in front of them, “I don’t have much medical supplies, so we’ll have to make do with these.” He gestures at the floating objects behind him.
The smiling man looks up at him and his green eyes shine pleasantly, “Oh, not at worry! The hospitality is very much appreciated!”
The bowl of water is set down on the nearby table as Grian moves to pull a stool over. He places it down right in front of the two men before sitting down himself. The bandages float over to the table and Grian motions them down with his finger. “I’ll run out to town later and grab some actual supplies,” he says, eyes trailing over to the smiling man. He quirks a brow, “What did you say your names were?”
“We didn’t,” the brooding man cuts in, voice low and terse.
Grian frowns at him as he dips the towel on his shoulder into the water. “Well then can I know them?” he snarks in reply, and the smiling man laughs.
“The name’s Scar, and my grumpy companion is Mumbo,” Scar explains. He looks at Grian with an inquisitive gaze, though there’s something else within his eyes. Grian can’t quite tell what it is, but when he looks at Scar’s eyes he feels electricity zip through him. He suppresses a shiver. Scar smiles at him, but it appears just a tad too sharp, “And what may your name be, oh kind and benevolent stranger?”
“Grian,” he answers blankly, finding himself sitting up straighter on the stool. His insides twist and curdle with Scar’s eyes on him like this, feeling as the man is trying to see something that isn’t on the surface.
“And you’re a witch?” Scar questions, and the movement is minute, the way his eyes squint ever so slightly.
Electricity crackles in the air, charging each particle and making it taste static on Grian’s tongue. It almost feels like a stand off, like Grian should choose his words carefully else a fight in his home may break out. Or his mysterious and injured guests may just show themselves out at the very doorstep they randomly appeared on.
Slowly, Grian nods, “I am.” He watches Scar’s expression carefully, noting from the corner of his eyes the way Mumbo seems to stiffen. “I don’t see how that’s relevant right now though,” he says, motioning for Scar to move closer, “your injuries are much more important.”
Much like lightning cracking in the sky, or two sparks of electricity meeting, whatever charge was building in the atmosphere around them bursts. It quickly fizzles out and disperses, leaving only weak charges of static behind.
It makes Grian relax almost immediately, the hairs on the back of his neck no longer standing on edge. His shoulders drop slightly, letting his guard fall.
Scar offers him a smile and a soft secret chuckle as he leans in, and Grian has to bring the stool closer in order to reach him the way he needs to.
He dips the towel into the bowl once again, taking Scar’s chin in his hand to move him the way he needs to. He scowls as the light just isn’t working for him and with his free hand, he takes his finger and draws a circle in the air. It glows red as it forms from his fingertip before morphing and curling in on itself, becoming a sphere of light that glows warmly. “Much better,” Grian hums before carefully dragging the soaked towel against Scar’s skin.
Silence stretches over the living room as Grian works on patching up his mysterious guests’ injuries.
