inosuke best boy

Inosuke’s sharp eyes wander over the human’s prone form, take in the bright green of the cloak he’s wearing, the fresh wound received no doubt on their escape from Irontown. It goes straight through him, blood staining his front as well as his back. “Those Irontown bastards really shot him,” Inosuke muses, snorts a puff of air as he nudges the human with his foot. “He’s dying.” He’s lost so much blood already, Inosuke can see it slicked across the elk’s hide when the animal pads a few steps closer, watches them with the whites of his eyes. He runs his fingers through the coarse hair on Kei’s forehead, dark brows knitting together when the human lets out a soft breath of air, a quiet moan of protest. “Hey… You’re still conscious?” Inosuke catches the flutter of dark eyelashes and he lunges forward, gets a handful of red hair between his fingers and yanks his head back, rolls him over so the delicate skin of his throat is exposed.