#viv001.

“The wound is poisoned.”

Scor’s eyes quickly tracked to see a sickeningly vibrant green tinge spreading across the flesh away from the oddly-shaped wound on the wix’s shoulder. Shoulder. Not ideal, a limb would have been far easier to slow down, instead it had a short, simple path directly to all their major organs. He twirled his wand nimbly and the soaked and ruined sleeve of their shirt neatly fell away. 

He turned to Viv, looking half-wild, blood matting the hair at his temple that had only semi-dried. 

“I need to do a blood siphoning spell.” Scor clenched his jaw and tapped his temple with his wand, an old looking pair of spectacles appeared over the bridge of his nose. The wix they had clustered against the back of a comically large and splendorous angel seemed to be losing consciousness, their pained cries dulled to feverish babbling. “You’re gonna have to help me Viv... Kneel on their legs, we have to pin them down.” He feared that in their half-aware state that if they used magical restraints they’d pull until they seriously injured themselves. “I know you’ve got my back. If you need to tap out and get better vantage to protect us, definitely do it, I just know that regardless of what pain relief I give them this isn’t going to be comfortable.”