You shivered under your fur blankets, your bare back brushing annoyingly against the material. Where was he? Oof, this fever was driving you crazy.
First surprising question: Why did you no longer have wings? After unfortunately getting wrapped up in a “wrong-place-wrong-time” situation of being caught in a criminal exchange while you still lived in the Scorpion Den. The trading SandWings were masochist, thinking that the proper way to punish you was to literally tear your wings from your body. Then they dumped your still bleeding body out into the desert to die. It was a terrible, traumatic experience. Yet you lived only by sheer will to survive as you dragged yourself across the endless sands before blacking out.
Now comes in the, who is he question: a young NightWing named Deathbringer. Pretty ominous already. You literally thought he was the embodiment of death upon first introductions. His name did not help unconvincing you so.
Surprisingly he helped you recover, though his healing skills were limited. Unfortunately, the healing process has been grueling as an infection imbedded itself within your terrible wounds and possibly by the improper care of Deathbringer.
This is about week three of you fighting desperately against the infection with no further luck towards health. Even though it seemed Deathbringer kept his enthusiasm for your recovery, the hope begins to wafer. The bandages were stiff in old blood and puss, sticking to the exposed muscle and against your sandy scales. A vicious fever ravaged your body with tremors and random bouts of heat, sometimes it created hallucinations. Your back was in constant pain even when not touched.
The sound of wingbeats made your ears perk, peeking out of your blanket to look at the hut’s curtain door to show a sliver of desert. But was that another set of wingbeats? Multiple muffled footsteps shuffling through the sand towards the hut you lay helpless in? Was it just your fever affecting your foggy mind? Two shadows appeared in the small crack, making your heart pound in your chest. Were the two SandWings back to finish the job? How did they find you?!
Still under the blanket, you shuffled around until your barbed tail was aimed out towards the door so that you can strike them before they had the chance to raise their claws to finish you off. When the body of a SandWing dipped their head through the curtain door, your barb flew through the air, aiming for their heart. But a black talon grabbed your tail before the stinger could touch their flesh.
“Oh wow that was close,” Deathbringer laughed. “You know how to keep your cool.” He regarded the SandWing with him.
They gave him a blank expression. “I wouldn’t be surprised. Especially if what you’ve told me about the fevers is true: then they will be extremely paranoid and most have a tendency to strike out, hallucinations or not.”
“Deathbringer, who is this?” you hiss, suspicious.
The NightWing assassin slithered into the hut, helping you up from your spot to greet the stranger.
“(Y/n), this is Roadrunner,” he told you. “They are a healer to help with your wounds.”
Now that the haze and delirium of the fever was gone, you can now see the pouches strapped under their wings holding medicines and supplies.
“But where did you get them?” you asked Deathbringer. “It’s miles from the Scorpions Den or Burn’s Stronghold.”
He shrugged. “Just at a little settlement in the desert.” He turned to Roadrunner. “Will you help them please?”
Deathbringer gingerly turned you around so that your back faced them, removing the blanket from your shoulders. A shiver ran down your spine as a breeze caressed the bare places upon your back. It was so odd to lack wings, and made you feel so very vulnerable.
Roadrunner inspects the wounds, removing the old, dirtied wrapping and prodded the area. Each poke made you wince in pain, almost wanting to bite the healer a couple times.
They nod. “I can do what I can to clean up the wounds and kill off the infection.”
Roadrunner quickly began their work washing the hardened blood and pus away from the wounds. Adding a paste of crushed dark green leaves that numbed the stubs so that they can apply another ointment that smelled of sage. The Sandwing healer wrapped it together with fresh bandages using professional talons to safely encase the wounds from the outside elements and to keep the healing medicine in.
“That should do it,” they concluded. Roadrunner created a bundle of leaves and sticks and roots that was put into a camel-hide bag before putting their supplies away. The SandWing held out their other talon to Deathbringer. “My payment.”
Payment? The thought didn’t form until you watched the NightWing give them a talon full of gold within theirs as they traded.
“Give that to them the next time they have a fever,” instructed the SandWing as they left, regarding the bag. “And next times visit won’t have a discount.”
As soon as you no longer heard wingbeats that faded into the night, you turned on the other dragon in the room.
“You paid for a healer to come here?” You practically snarl the question. “Why waste any treasure on me? I’m just a stupid, useless SandWing now. There’s no use for me. I can’t even fly!” You meekly flex your shoulders which tingled numbly still.
“Then it’ll be more of an adventure on foot,” he tells you.
“We’re not going on an adventure! It just sounds outlandish: “A NightWing assassin and wingless SandWing comrade travel across Pyhrria together doing whatever!”. Like that will ever go down in any kind of scrolls,” you declare.
He took you by the shoulders. “But its an adventure I’m willing to take with you,” Deathbringer says. “If you want to travel with me. I’ll make sure no one ever hurts you again, (Y/n).”
There was solid seriousness in his tone with the statement. It was serious enough for him to drop his goofy demeanor for a moment at the inclination, which was much genuine in his promise to you. And you felt that he could hold up to it.
The thought of leaving the Sand Kingdom was heart pounding with excitement and fear. There was still a raging war going on beyond the borders. Who wouldn’t want a chance to kill a helpless SandWing? What if Princess Blister wanted to come after you for her oddity collection? How would Deathbringer fight off a clever SandWing princess?
“You make me so scared, you know that right?” you asked your NightWing friend.
“You make me so happy, you know that (Y/n)?” Deathbringer drops. “You’ve been so strong throughout this entire ordeal and you still trust me, a mysterious assassin NightWing! This will be an epic adventure as much as a journey to recovery.”
You sigh. “Fine. We leave for your crazy adventure in the morning.”
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