coloredrings said: Did you still want to plot? You never replied to me via skype, I think.
Absolutely! :D Last time we talked, you were busy with RL stuff so I didn’t want to bother you afterwards. But if you’re up to it, I’ll be on Skype tonight! :D
Height: Shapeshifter? [I have no exact idea but I am not a very tall buddy... Then on pictures I look super tall?!]
Sexual Orientation: Demisexual
Favorite Colors: Teal, orange, red, dark grey and about any neon colors!!
Average Sleep Time: I usually sleep about 5 to 9 hours I think? [It’s about the time we sleep, right?]
Lucky Number: I don’t know but I really like the number 25 for some reason.
Last Thing Googled: “How to sanitize wood picked outside?” [For my chameleon's husbandry]
Word that comes to mind: ZigZag!!
Happy Place: Anywhere with Nichiriin c:
Number of Blankets to snooze with: Two. I have a heavy cozy one and a smaller one that is very very soft which I enjoy to shove my face in and adksjdlkask~
Favorite Fictional Characters: Zant, Midna, Ghirahim and Ganondorf.
Favorite Famous Person: Steve Irwin [R.I.P.]
Favorite Book Series: I don't really read except documentaries about dinosaurs or wild animals/strange stuff.
I tag nichiriin, colorpencilsofdoom, duskshadowdemon, indianamimi, clumsydeydey, burninether, lauri-kun, salami-dono and insanity-ecstasy!
You’re not obligated to do this guys but I appreciate you all! c:
I had drawn a picture of our magnificent Queen Jade, but apparently PhotoShop messed up when shutting down so now the picture is damaged and I can’t even open it.
Fran gently passed the wet cloth over the guardian’s face. The man was sweating like never before because of the bite he received to protect her.
They were traveling through the desert, making their way toward Rabanastre for a quick rest before continuing on their journey, when they both caught on a sound that reminded them of a snake. When the reptile suddenly appeared to attack them, Auron acted instinctively. He stood before Fran to protect her, his right arm pushing her behind him while he held his left forearm in front of him, almost as an offering to the creature. His bracer shattered when the fangs pierced through the metal and went deep into his skin before Fran shot it dead.
There was only one place there were snakes in this desert and they walked right into it.
She gave him an antidote immediately, hoping it would be enough to get rid of the poison in his system. Unfortunately, Auron seemed more vulnerable to venom than she expected and the antidote wasn’t enough. He collapsed about fifteen minutes after their encounter with the snake. Thankfully, a nomad child doing his sun stones errand found them and brought some adults to help Fran carry Auron back to a nomad village, the one where she lived for a very short time. He was too heavy to be carried all the way there by her alone.
After they helped her get him inside a tent, mostly made of wolf pelts, the viera removed his red coat and boots after making sure he was settled comfortably. She had been taking care of him ever since.
Very few nomads remembered her. It was a dangerous life, hunting accidents being the main cause of death among the villagers. After 40 years, only the elderly knew who she was.
The hours passed and Auron’s fever didn’t diminish. Fran did everything she could to help: cold water, removing the rest of his clothing, keeping the blanket around his waist, some nomad antidote… The only good sign was he didn’t seem to get any worse.
When he opened his eyes for the time since he fell in the desert, the moon was high up in the sky. A cool summer breeze blew across the village, keeping the guards comfortable while they were doing their rounds. His gaze had some trouble to focus at first. The dim light provided by a small lamp hanging up from a stick in the tent didn’t help. Auron didn’t try to sit up, but moved a little to see if anything would hurt.
Everything did.
Fran.
Was she safe?
He saw white threads of hair fall on each side of his face and he painfully look up. For a moment, the crazy idea that it was Lady Yunalesca crossed his mind, but it vanished as soon as he saw those crimson eyes he fell in love with. They looked concerned. Weakly, his right hand reached for one of those long locks and he let his fingers play with it lazily.
“I'm sorry for making you worry, my dear." He closed his eyes again when he felt the cold cloth over his forehead. "How long was I out?"
"A few hours," she answered simply, her tone even and calm. He nodded, unable to let go of her hair. "The fact that you finally open your eyes mean you will be fine. The fever must be going down." She said it more to herself than for him. In the middle of the desert, she didn't have access to any herbs her kind knew to make a stronger antidote. But it seemed the one the nomads gave her was enough.
"Where are we?" he asked, his throat feeling as dry as the sand. And as if she knew it, the viera carefully lifted his head and helped him drink some water. He almost swallowed the whole cup in two mouthfuls.
"In a nomad village. We are safe here. Please rest," she whispered and gently rubbed her nose against his, an action that relaxed him immediately along with the knowledge his condition did not put her in more danger than before.
He went back to sleep, his fingers still holding onto that lock of hair he played with earlier.
The next morning, before he opened his eyes, he knew she was gone. The soft cushion his head used to rest on the night before was replaced by his red coat and his right hand laid empty on its back.
Where was Fran?
He forced his body to move, sitting up painfully when an elderly voice surprised him.
"I told her to get some sleep in another tent," the old woman told him. "She wouldn't rest as long as she was at your side because your fever wasn't completely gone." Auron turned his head to the speaker. She was sitting on her knees and smiling kindly to him. Her clothes, colorful and handmade, seemed to have little sand on it. She probably didn't leave the village much anymore.
"That does sound like her," he answered before his eye noticed the bandage around his left wrist and the used ones in the corner of the tent. "May I see her?" he pushed the blanket aside.
"After you are properly dressed, yes," was her only answer, her smile taking a mysterious curve. The warrior looked down and noticed the blanket was no longer covering his dignity. With a straight face, put back his pants and boots before following her out of the tent to where Fran was sleeping, his red coat under his arm and his sunglasses on his nose.
The sun was only up for a hour or two, but the village was already busy, people actively doing their chores. However, it was not hard to notice the glances they gave the guardian or hear the whispers carried by the desert wind. Auron did not pay attention to any of it. All that mattered right now was to see his partner.
He found her under a similar tent to his, guarded by a weaponless young man. The guard blinked at him but a nod from the old lady made he moved aside to let Auron walked in.
Fran's back was facing the entrance of the tent, her breathing slow and regular. He approached her as silently as possible and, despite the pain in his muscles, he knelt down at her side. He immediately noticed her dirty hands.
These were not the hands of a healer.
Then, his eye stopped over her scar, the only one on her body. There was always a small pinch at his heart when he saw it. He sighed with regret before he lovingly pushed some of her hair away from her face to take a good look at her sleeping expression. He placed his coat as a blanket over her, making sure her nose was close to the fabric but not too much to allow her to breath correctly. His gesture was not to hide her nudity but rather to comfort her with something that had his smell on it. He knew she would rest better like this despite the heat.
He smiled warmly as she dug her nose into it in her sleep. For about a minute, he remained there, resisting the urge to touch her again in fear to wake her up. Finally, he kissed her cheek softly and left the tent.
"What did she do to get her hands dirty like that?" he asked to the elder. Her expression changed to something more sober and nostalgic.
"She probably went to clean the tomb of her late husband."
He recalled Fran telling him about that man back in the Farplane. So she used to live this village... Will she mourn him as much when he will pass away for good? Or as long?
"May you guide me to it? I would like to pay my respects." Her eyes showed disbelief. "She has already told me of him. It is not jealousy that fuels my request. I am sincere," he continued on a soft tone.
"I think you should ask her to do it."
"You are right," he admitted, turning his head toward Fran's tent.
"You still need to rest, young man. Go back to your tent. We will bring you food and water there."
Auron chuckled. It had been quite a while since anyone called him young.
"Very well." He quietly made his way back, his undone ponytail floating behind him. It was only back in his tent, all alone, that he fell to his knees, in pain, and rolled on the pelts that served as his bed, his body screaming to him to stop moving.
