Firestone Hot Springs i took an oath, it's killing me though

@Pheiros <3 bit vague

The moment his attacker is out of sight, Zephyr allows himself to relax, despite the danger he's in. Keeping the tension locked up in his body isn't doing him any favors, after all. But then, does he even possess the strength for that kind of tension? He can feel the weakness spreading over him like a suffocating, too-warm blanket, though the pain is gone. He's still bleeding, he notices, glancing down — that can't be good. But then suddenly he isn't thinking about that anymore; suddenly he's thinking about his companions, his loved ones, desperately hoping that his crazed assailant hasn't found them, too.

He had just started his trek back home when he caught the scent of blood mingled with the pungent smell of the water around him. He was surprised to have been able to smell anything over the hot springs. Pheiros tracked the smell until he found the lithe form of the stranger, or rather, her trail of blood and then her. It soon became apparent why he had been able to scent the blood so well over the stench of the water—there was so much of it; too much to mean anything good.

The golden boy trotted forward, wary but clearly concerned. I'm a medic—well I'm training to be one. But I know a few things and can try to help, he told her as he came to a stop. He waited to come any closer in case she wasn't okay with him being there.

A soft light in the dark, gilded sunlight calling to him through the shadows. For a moment, he thinks he's dying — perhaps it's Helios in some pure form, devoid in death of all that had plagued him in life, come to take him to some higher plane so that he might become the same. But that's wishful thinking, isn't it? Death can't be so pretty and warm, or else it wouldn't be so feared; it must be something cold and desolate, a void without love or hope. Something like him.
No, this isn't death, or the ghost of Helios — it's another beautiful boy, come to witness yet another of his many humiliations. He blinks as he watches him, lurching upright when he starts to speak. A medic. The rest matters little. He's pretty and he can help, so Zephyr is sold. I — yes. Please, He hates how weak and strained his voice sounds, as if he's been yelling for hours. Suddenly self-conscious, he adds, I know I look like a girl, but — I'm not. The mind-fog of blood loss combined with nervous youthful attraction is a strange thing — but ultimately he doesn't think much of it, accustomed as he is to situations like this. If he let it stop him, he'd never have any time for anything else.

He waited only seconds after being given permission before he was over the injured stranger, inspecting his wounds, the worst of which appeared to be the gash at the junction of his neck and shoulder. He thought the clarification was a little odd—mostly because he had never heard anything like that, but he didn't question it. If he said he was a boy, then that's what he was. You must be in a lot of pain, he said first. Hr tried to remember what he could from the one real lesson he had received. Um, let me go see what I can find, he said, turning and then freezing and turning back around. Oh and something to stop the bleeding and prevent infection...I'll be tight back, I promise. Then he turned and sprinted away with his scattered thoughts. 

There wasn't much in this area unfortunately, so Pheiros had to leave and venture farther than he preferred, meaning he was gone a lot longer than he really wanted to be. 

When he returned, it was with a mouthful of things he managed to scrounge up—some moss for the bleeding, some chamomile for infection, and some willow bark for pain. It was actually a pretty decent collection of things, and he had only been gone for about two hours. He stopped next to the wounded boy, dropping the plants at his feet. I'm sorry that took so long, he said softly. Then he nudged the bark towards him. Here, eat this; it will help with pain. Then he picked up the other two items and moved his attention to the worst wound. He remembered that the injuries should be cleaned before applying anything. He looked around and grimaced. These need to be cleaned, he explained. You're going to have to get in the water and soak for a few minutes, he instructed. It wasn't ideal but it would do.

Honestly, he doesn't hear a lot of what the boy says. Between exhaustion and blood loss, it's surprising he can even find the focus to stare blankly at him and think about how pretty he is. Eventually the boy leaves, and after awhile, Zephyr doesn't think he's going to come back.
And then he's there again, somehow, carrying plants this time. Oh, right. He'd said he could help, hadn't he? Zephyr blinks at him as he speaks again, struggling to understand. The words simply don't make sense to him at first; they sound like meaningless noise. The... water? He asks slowly, feeling stupid. Can — can you help me? He doesn't think he can manage standing on his own — and besides, it's an excuse to get close to this beautiful boy.

Yeah, sure, he agreed immediately, glad to be able to do anything to help. He hesitated, though, looking down at the bark. Um, you might want to eat this first, though, he suggested, nosing the bark closer. It will help your pain and make things easier. He knew making him get into the water would be a painful task for him, so he wanted to be sure he ate the bark first. He would wait for the other boy to follow his instructions before stepping closer to help him up.

Focusing on the boy's words is still a struggle, but he gets the general meaning of what he's saying, especially with the added gesture. Eating the bark is easier said than done — but he chokes it down dutifully. It tastes pretty gross, too; he isn't even sure what it's meant to do (since he hasn't really been listening), but he hopes it's worth all the trouble. With that finished, he starts to stand, moving slowly to allow Pheiros time to start helping before he crashes back down.

The injured stranger finally ate the bark and then immediately tried to stand, and even though Pheiros was right there, he still fumbled a little and ended up letting him fall. I'm sorry, he murmured. What a great medic he was turning out to be, letting his second ever patient fall down and hurt himself when he was in pain. 

He quickly tried to recover, gently pressing against the other boy to help him up and then guide him to the pool with the lowest edge. Then he planned to help him in and then stay in with him to hold him above the water. Judging by how out of it he was, Pheiros was afraid he might drown if just left in there by himself.

At least I can't really feel it, he thinks, wincing a little nonetheless as he feels a fresh trickle of blood through his fur. S'fine, He murmurs, struggling to enunciate his words for a moment while he recovers from the jarring experience. The next few minutes are a blur, but eventually he ends up in the water, savior pressed close to his side. The contact is almost nice enough to distract him from the stinging of water against his wounds. You're really nice. He sighs softly, finding himself able to speak properly again now that the pain has faded a little. It's funny to him, how he can't feel it, yet it affects him so profoundly in other ways. And really... gold, and pretty. He hadn't meant that part to come out, but he's not in any place to regret it right now. As far as he's concerned, this boy is an angel, and deserves to be told as much.

It really wasn't fine, but Pheiros let it go, deciding it was better to focus on getting the injured boy into the water safely and without hurting him anymore. 

Thankfully, he seemed to be bale to do that much, and once they were in the warm, stinky pool, he felt the other boy relax against him. It was a few moments before he spoke, paying him a compliment that made his cheeks warm. Pheiros was unsure what to say in return, so he awkwardly said nothing. Then the stranger was complimenting him further, and his cheeks were heating even more. He had never been called pretty, and it only made his heart beat furiously in his chest that the one calling him that was far prettier than he was. Oh, um, thanks. So are you, he said, feeling immediately dumb. So are you? Now he was hitting on his patient? That was probably against some kind of healer's rule book or something. 

He quickly tried to change the subject. What happened to you? he asked. He was curious about that and now seemed like a good time to ask.

Hearing the compliment returned pleases him, but he doesn't have long to bask in the feeling. The question that follows brings with it unpleasant, unwanted memories. Some guy... attacked me out of nowhere. In the dark. And then he... helped me? The whole thing had been confusing. I think he made a mistake when he attacked me. Not that it's forgivable regardless. He sucks in a sharp breath, leaning his head against the boy's shoulder. He's so tired.

His eyes widened in surprise. For no reason? That's messed up, even if it was an accident. It was strange that he had helped him after, but probably for the best given the state he was in now. He might have been worse off it it wasn't for that help. 

The stranger rested his head against the golden boy's shoulder and he had the sudden urge to snuggle him close and make him feel safe. So he didn't resist; he lowered his head over the other boys. He was quiet for a few moments before gently asking: What's your name?

He agrees with the boy's statement, but he allows it to pass in silence, too weary to give unnecessary responses. Besides — he's far too distracted by the movement that follows, the shift of the golden boy's head over his own. He melts into the embrace, nose lifting to nuzzle the boy's neck in appreciation. The next thing he says warrants a reply, so Zephyr pulls the frayed edges of his focus together enough to give one. Zephyr, He answers into golden fur, not bothering to move. He likes where he's at right now.

Zephyr. he committed the name to memory, knowing he wouldn't soon forget about this injured boy. I'm Pheiros, he offered in return. He was quiet for a few moments after that, keeping still and still snuggling close. Do you have a home around here somewhere? he asked gently. Somewhere I can take you when you're feeling up to it? He couldn't just leave him here by himself, especially now that Pheiros felt a strong pull to make sure he was safe and cared for.

The golden boy offers his own name; a pretty name, so similar to Helios it hurts a little. Pheiros — I like that, He murmurs into the quiet. Then, in response to his questions, he adds, I don't have a home yet, but I'm... traveling with a group. Gratitude sweeps over him. Thank you for helping me. He's pretty sure he wouldn't have died regardless (he's wrong, but whatever), but it would have sucked to lie out here alone all night, aching and crushingly miserable. This is much better.