Bearclaw Valley If I was born a blackthorn tree

Breathing was agonizing and deep sleep felt impossible. Aventus spent his days in an exhausted fog following the raid. Arielle did what she could, but this sort of injury could only be healed with time. Somehow it felt worse than it had when he was younger despite being less severe. He could not explain that.

His ears twitched upright when Arielle entered, but for the time being, he kept his eyes closed. He knew she wanted him to get proper rest. When she said his name, he peeled back his eyelids and peered up at her just in time to catch her wince. It sent a sharp pang through his chest that was worse still than the pain in his side.

He did not move, but let his breath out in a slow whoosh. He hadn't sorted out his anger from his worry yet. There was no need for her to have been hurt like this, but if she hadn't fought with him, his death would have been assured. How could he be angry with her when she might be the reason he was still alive? Yet he was. He had never wanted her to be hurt like that, and their victory in snatching Indra did little to temper that.

Are you okay? he asked first, voice gravelly in his throat.