Swiftcurrent Creek To Hold and Ocean

He had dealt with pain before. Emotional pain, mostly, but a bit of physical. Aches of his muscles or the searing sharpness of fresh wounds - but nothing like this. This was hotter, it was throbbing and fogging his mind considerably. Even when Tuwawi spoke and then moments later slunk out of his space - he did not notice. Her voice was there, and then it wasn't. The fog of his pain was keeping him secluded from his own wife, when she was only a few feet away.

When she returned, she placed something cold upon the ground. The man did as he was told and carefully placed his head on to the chunk, but flinched and jerked away from it as soon as his skin made contact. Njal did not expect cold, not like that. He breathed through his teeth and writhed quietly, fighting the urge to pull away as he tried again and again, eager to do as Tuwa told him - knowing that she would not make him do something that was harmful. She was helping him, even if he wasn't all there mentally.

Eventually he managed to rest his head in one position, and he ignored the seeping wetness and the cold that rooted its way through his fur. Gradually his skin numbed; the bloody line on his face leaked bits of red on to the ice, diluting in the dark. "Tuwawi." Njal murmured, forgetting that he was supposed to be quiet; he moved his dimmed eyes to watch her silhouette. "When did... You get blue eyes.." The blurry good eye closed in a weary blink, as he clearly babbled on about strange things. Dizzy and concussed. "Winter is over, inn't?"