#waloed-steed

Kneeling down beside the man quickly, Kihel was relieved enough that he seemed to listen to her warning. She had seen that happen often enough. In their pain and shock people removed the blades stuck in their bodies - opening up bloodvessels that had been sealed by the steel and pure luck. They all found a quick death.

Searching her bag, the girl quickly got out what she needed to treat this man. His question only got him a shake of her head and a firm look.

"Because it's the right thing to do, milord."

He needed help. And it did not matter who he was. He was in pain and danger. And she could help.

"I will pull it out and treat the wound. You have to restrain yourself, yes? No fighting what I do. And it will hurt."

There was a strange seriousness about her, unfitting for a child. But she knew what she was doing. A white cloth in her hand, laid around the blade stuck in the man's side, an assembly of colorful little flasks beside her, ready to be grabbed and her other hand curling around the hilt of the knife firmly.

let’s cuddle rp prompts ( crawl ) sender crawls into the receiver’s chest for a hug / cuddle @waloed-steed

It was a familiar song and dance between them now, Gav wordlessly accepting Sleipnir's presence as he felt the other crawl closer. As the steed nestled himself in the comfort of the blond's strong chest, Gav draped his arms around the other's slender frame, holding him close without outright squeezing him. He then began raking his finger through soft, silver locks.

Part 2 of the little thread doodles. Part 1.

This time featuring:

@waloed-steed 's Sleipnir from X

𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆

♞— " Yo creí que ma había desviado en un sueño... " I thought I had strayed into a dream. He would whisper in a tongue long forgotten, from a land ravaged by the Blight. Long the years have passed since and the King did not have the burdens he carried now.

--

For the life of him he could not remember the very moment when the Dark Blade had pressed upon his tender breast. The memory of it is clouded full of mists. Only the feeling of indescribable agony he recalled, as his soul was shattered and split in twain. The sweet holy dagger had sliced not only his mortal flesh and bone, but also sundered the core of his very soul.

Then what next came was the feeling of white hot bliss, as a vision descends to him from the Valhalla, enveloped in the purest form of aether. He had held out his arms to receive it, cradling this new form his heart has taken.

Skin as soft as porcelain, pale powerful limbs that shall run light on the green earth beneath the sky. Fair hair like the pale moonlight, and lips like bows of petals. He knew of this face from eons past. Sculpted out of his deep subconscious. When those amethyst eyes had fluttered open to meet his stormy gaze, he saw starlight within the deep wells of their depths in twilight.

Then he was graced with a smile... and he felt himself drown. To what gods and saints would he owe his faith, to be bestowed with such a blessing? Should the earth shatter and crumble beneath his feet, and should the sky fall, he would care naught, so long as he is not parted from this gift evermore.

From that moment on, all he had ever felt was LOVE.

"...From the moment you were born to me, I had never known pure happiness. No other kind of bliss I had felt the very moment my eyes laid upon you." He would confess, as the back of his finger would caress upon that smooth temple to brush away the hair from those eyes. His liege would then guide his hand to press upon the scar that was left. "You are all I had wanted and more... You are worth the ache I bare upon my breast. Worth the sacrifice I had endured... A true gift you are to me. Never see yourself as anything less."

♞— He had felt the pang of it even before the other had arrived in such a state — first a sharp ringing in his ears and then a pain that was not his blossoms on his side with an ache. Barnabas had felt the brush of Bahamut's blinding radiance penetrating and piercing at the makeup of his Egi's delicate Darkness.

The King's strong arms would catch his Lord Commander even before his knees could give way. A stony scowl now etched in His Majesty's expression in a silent rage. It simmers to the surface towards who so ever dared to wound his Beloved.

Bahamut should rue the day. Odin shall see to it that his Light would be dimmed and snuffed for hurting his most precious.

Clicking his tongue Barnabas would press a hand 'pon the gaping bleeding wound, putting pressure upon it. Then, breathing in deeply, aether would start to flow between him and his other half. Warmth would exchange and a feint glow emanates from the two figures as their essence mingled and coalesced. Curse the Almighty that even conjured out of his own magic, Sleipnir still is to be made out of true flesh and blood. His own flesh and blood. Still vulnerable to the edge of blades and swords and Dominant's attacks.

"Foolish steed," he would scold, yet his voice was dangerously soft. "You would dare stir a sleeping dragon? What has caused you to stand in the path of Bahamut's wrath? You should not have to throw yourself in harms way that is to be fatal. Not even for my sake. You hold something precious and I forbid it. Do you understand?"

Soon the bleeding would stop, and so would the King's initial rage. But they should away immediately to get him to a proper healer. There was only so much the King could do with sealing the wound with his power and siphoning much of the pain away. With a sigh, Barnabas would clutch his love's hand and would place a kiss upon it. He cradles his lover protectively against his chest before a Cloud of Darkness is conjured. It would billow and whirl around them, cloaking the two figures before they disappear in a loud whisp.