Barrier Gulch [m] Asp

‘I’m not dying.’ He blinked—gaze holding an inkling of relief as it sweeps over Eset, who is no longer curled within herself, crying to be left alone. Yet there is so much blood…

He blinks again—Silvertongue before him, he could still hear her scream—could still feel her teeth scouring the scar upon his brow and eye: 'vete a la mierda lejos de mí! vete a la mierda lejos de mí!'

It repeats in his head, recycled, over and over—as it had haunted him, when he had given up and walked away from her in this very desert. Like the present, strangers had descended upon him—threatening, as they did now. Then and now.

‘Go to your fucking home. You have done enough.’
‘If you wish them gone, say the word.’
‘Akavir, don’t fuckin’ touch her.’

He blinks again—his eyes tracing Eset now, the present—‘You can all go fuck on with your lives now.’

Another arrives—plunking a flower before her and encouraging her to nourish herself upon it.

There is a buzzing in the background—words spoken. ‘Detain him.’
His gaze sharply lifts—the man of russet and iron is moving to him, following the woman’s orders. He bares his fangs at Khusobek, his snarl silent—but he does not deflect and allows the man to hold him, while his eyes continue to study Eset for a moment. The blood... had she been...

Before, he had let them drive him from his lover.

Not again. Instead, his eyes direct to Zaahira, Qiao’s demand clear upon the desert air. “Get the fucking water,” he seethes at her, since she is the only one simply standing there by her own will.