Bramblepoint We’re going to your place

The reaper that was once born and held against his will in a human fighting ring strives in the wilderness now. Or he used to. When he was a part of the Nightwalkers he thrives greatly. Even making such strong connections as to obtain two mates. The same mates he’s come back to find and claim after selfishly abandoning them after the fall of said pack. 

Now though, he is back to his stand-offish, sadistic self. He will stay this way until he has his mates in his grasp once more. Though the Spaniard’s mood is usually sour, it’s more so now with the abundance of wounds littering his once handsome face. The extent of his wounds are gruesome and the sad truth is, is that he will die from infection if he does not get them treated. Though a very prideful creature, he isn’t often stupid. Key word: often. 

Initially he believes he’s alone. That is until he feels the watchful eyes of a hidden being glancing upon his pitiful, injured form. It is only confirmed further when a tall woman is stepping directly in front of him. He bristles automatically. This stranger stands directly before him to intentionally disrupt his search, to halt him in his advances towards his mates. 

Yet, with his head hung even with his shoulders he stares straight at her. Silvery eyes sweeping shamelessly over the charcoal black of her pelt, not missing the cream diamond dusting beneath her neck like a target — bite me, bite me here! His lip twitches threateningly, but he doesn’t growl. Her voice reaches his ears and she states the obvious. Yes, he is obviously hurt and yes he’s definitely in pain. How observant of her. 

He’d stilled in his waking some time ago and he huffs out a scoffing breath at her. “Obviamente.” He says blandly. His usually smooth voice is gravelly from disuse. “Sí amiga, how did you come to that conclusion.” His words are partially slurred from his heavy accent as he regards the herbs at her feet carefully, almost regretting automatically being an asshole to her. It’s obvious she might be some type of medic and it just so happens he could use that as of right now. 

Santi does a double take. “You are a medic then, yes?” He asks then, tone more neutral than his last smartass remark.