Broken Boulder this is gospel for the fallen ones

wake up time! this is completely aw, but im including some tags for those who might want to hop in (please join my thread thx)
@Delight @Eris @Zamael (& Lily but im not taggin u twice) @Ulf uhh SORRY IF I MISSED ANYONE I LOVE U ALL

It was a shrill, sustained note that first pierced the darkness; a thin sound reverberating through his skull relentlessly, gripping him and shaking him to wakefulness. His eyes opened to brightness, and everything shifted to the left like a kicked-over stack of books. He sucked in a ragged breath at the sharp pain behind his eyes; closing them only dulled it to a deep, throbbing ache.
He was alive. Oh... that was when the familiar wetness gathered under his eyelids, jaw clenching tight at the realization. Fucking— fuck Runion— and fuck whoever’d brought him here; it was all he could think over that awful sound. Alarian took another deep, shaking breath— it was cut off just as quickly by a quiet, choked cry he could not even hear over the high-pitched noise.
His head. A white-hot bolt of pain shot through his skull, intense and stinging-itching at the source; for several beats he could do nothing, could not even breathe through the pain. It passed quickly, leaving him slightly breathless and at once exhausted. It was a while before he opened his eyes again, slowly, blinking several times. He took a deep breath, and finally shifted to raise his head, taking in stride now the inevitable lurch in his perception. It was several more moments before the dizziness faded enough for him to see— to think.
He was alone, for the moment; for that, he found himself grateful. The piercing call had not ceased, filling each empty space in his mind, and he could hardly ignore it. It was a sound not entirely unfamiliar to him— something he’d heard on occasion when it got too quiet or when he had a particularly jarring fall from a tree. He knew it was restricted within his own skull. Somehow, that didn’t make it any easier.
The pain in his head came and went, and the ache behind his eyes intensified with the light but abated when he closed them; the sound did not stop. His chest tightened with the weight of the burdens he had woken to; through the agonized red-and-white haze, he wished quite suddenly and desperately for his mother.

He had sat vigil for Alarian, scarcely leaving his brother's side since he'd brought him back, save to eat or piss. Hell, even the former, he'd brought food back to the den to eat it there--but he wasn't going to subject his brother to the latter activity, even if he was out cold. It was a boring yet anxious few days, waiting for Alarian to rouse. . .and desperately hoping that he would, indeed, wake up. There was always the possibility that he wouldn't.

Zamael was just outside the den, in the tunnels, when he heard movement from inside. His ears swiveled, then pushed forward with alarm; something had happened, whether for good or bad. He rose swiftly to his feet and popped his head inside, eyes widening, tears gathering at their corners, as he saw that Alarian was awake at last.

"Hey," he whispered gently, knowing that head wounds did particularly nasty things to the senses--sight, hearing, and all that. He moved forward to nose ever-so-slightly at Alarian's shoulder, licking a bit of disheveled pelt there. "You're awake. I'm so glad."

He would have to go find Eris, to summon her to the den. It had been a nerve-wracking several days for them both, but now the waiting game was finally at an end. Didn't necessarily mean the recovery would be smooth sailing--quite the opposite, from the looks of it--but at least he was alive and alert. He could work with whatever came next.

the news of what had happened to alarian -- what he'd been able to get from eris -- delight couldn't quite get the shape of the whole story. but maybe that doesn't matter in the end. what matters is: alarian was hurt. very badly. and in his absence, delight had to step up.

of course that sent him spiraling through the mato situation again, and were it not for the fact that he has three very small children depending on him (and the fact that unlike at tindómë, he does not suspect the wolves of bracken will be quite so indulgent with him) he would have done his absolute best to get the fuck out of it. in lieu of that he steps up, sort of. thankfully things are (with the exception of alarian) fairly well regulated at bracken, and all he's got to do is keep everything from falling apart like it always does, inevitably, under his watch. he leaves alarian to the care of his family, having little to offer in the way of healing abilities in the first place and still responsible to stay close to his children. he does come by daily to check in with whoever's around.

today he spots alarian's brother -- zamael? he's not gotten to properly meet him considering the circumstances -- and speeds up a little, offering a smile. unaware that alarian's just woken, he calls out, "how is he today?" his eyes moving to scan the darkness of the den for that familiar prone shape.

Zamael's voice barely registered over the constant ringing through his skull. Immediately his lips peeled back to reveal teeth bloodied from subconsciously worrying at the inside of his mouth during the agony of his first waking moments. He was silent, unable to look at him for several beats. The touch brought a low growl from him, but finally the snarl faded and he turned.
He saw blood and fire. Alarian flinched from his brother's stare, crumbling under the intensity of it. He wished he would leave; not truly, not fully, but in that moment he believed it. This was a process best suffered alone, a burden he should bear himself, and truth be told Zamael was making it worse. But it wasn't his fault. It was just—
A voice cut through the ringing, through his thoughts; something familiar. Delight. There was something so very urgent about his friend's presence. Quite suddenly, he found himself standing, taking one shaking step forward— two— his vision went black. His head spun like a hyper kid in an office chair, sending him careening to the left. Ouch.
Fuck, He choked out as he hit the ground, unable to hold back a snort. So he couldn't even walk. Great. And Delight would see him this way— and he couldn't even remember what was so important. It still nagged at him, the same way his ears were still full of that persistent ringing. He was certain, then, that this was it— he'd finally lose his mind now, and he'd go be a forest hermit somewhere, and maybe he'd be fucking happier.

Yikes. Zamael bowed his muzzle delicately at Alarian's body on the ground in answer to Delight, unable to keep a glint of humor from his eyes. He always had the knack of finding the comical in any situation, no matter how dark. Black comedy was a bitch, and not everyone really got it. Surely Alarian wouldn't find it funny. The fuck was he thinking, anyway? His lips firmed, and he took a deep, meditative breath before speaking again.

"Feverfew," he said, directing his attention to Alarian. "Helps a headache. There's some leaves over here; I prepared a bundle for your while you were out." A big bundle, for the biggest fucking headache of his brother's life. He nosed the greenery toward the Governor, hoping he had the strength to move his muzzle a centimeter and ingest the stuff.

He emerged slightly from the shadows, fixing his fiery stare on Delight. "Well, he's awake," he responded--unnecessarily--while keeping his voice low. "Long road to recovery. That fuckwad Runion cracked his head pretty hard."

there's a bit of a kerfuffle that delight doesn't quite make out, hearing only a loud (and familiar-sounding) fuck to the tune of something falling over. well he can take a guess. amusement curls his mouth despite himself, matching the look in zamael's eyes. c'mon, it was a little funny. 

his question is more or less answered, but he waits for zamael to address him properly before speaking, nodding. "glad to hear that. uh, not the head cracking bit," delight adds hastily. he doubts alarian is up for company but none-the-less he calls out, "um, hey pal, hope you feel better soon."

zamael'd said runion. has he heard that name before? deciding he hasn't, the androgyne clears his throat and asks delicately, "who is runion?"