Jade Fern Grove am i more than you bargained for yet?

some pp, let me know if it's not okay ❤

When they finally reach the grove, he insists on hunting for @Midar — a desire spawned half from concern and half from a desperate need to be alone for a bit. He needs to clear his head. Between his encounter with Saarthal and his lover's current state, he feels pretty fried. So he makes himself scarce awhile, only returning to his companion when he has a fairly sturdy hare dangling from his jaws. Hey, He greets as he draws nearer, dropping the hare next to Midar. Had to fight an old lady for that, so enjoy. He jokes a little tiredly, gaze sweeping over the other's wounds. He knows he'll need to depart soon, but he lingers for now, undeniably reluctant to leave.

Much to his disliking, Alarian left to hunt for him. He didn't need him to do that--except he was kind of hungry. He thought it had to have been days since he last ate, and the combination of exhaustion and blood-loss had taken a toll on his energy stores. So, reluctantly, he kept his mouth shut and lied down to rest while his companion left to find food.

When he returned with the rabbit, he couldn't even think of a snarky retort to his old lady comment over the tempting aroma of the meal. Without any words, the beast reached over and snatched the gift, tearing into it and scarfing down the meat in record time. When he was done, he looked up, suddenly aware of the other man again. Thanks, he said first, licking bits of the creature from his lips. I'm afraid I didn't leave any for you, he said next, apology clear in his voice. He was probably hungry too, and Midar had only thought of himself as usual.

It's a relief to see Midar eating so enthusiastically, honestly. He tries unsuccessfully to fight the amused curve of his lips, settling back on his haunches. When his companion finally speaks, he shakes his head slightly. Don't worry about it, He says, reminded now of the uncomfortable churning in his own stomach. He's too anxious to eat, fighting back waves of nausea every few hours when something unwanted inevitably comes to mind. It's been quite awhile since he last forced something down, and it will surely be awhile yet. How are you feeling?

He felt a little better when Alarian assured him his moment of greediness was okay. His next question was met with a shrug of the beast's blue-black shoulders. I'm f-- he started before cutting himself off and offering the other man a wary glance. I feel okay, still painful and tired, he corrected. No use in trying to keep from him what he already knew. 

He absentmindedly glanced at the destroyed rabbit carcass, noticing the flashes of bone and blood-stained fur, and he was suddenly somewhere else--somewhere he didn't recognize. It was a pitch-black forest, illuminated by the full, orange moon high above him. In front of him were unrecognizable plants, bones, and steaming hot stones. 

Then it was as if he were watching the scene unfold from above, like a spirit looking down on the praying man below. The words he was saying seemed so familiar, but Midar didn't know why. He listened harder, desperately trying to understand.

Sweet mother, sweet mother,
reveal my life's thread to me
Sweet mother, sweet mother
for the sins of the unworthy must be baptized in blood and fear.

What did it mean? Why did this suddenly feel strangely familiar and sacred. He grew frustrated and in return, was pulled from the scene, eyes refocusing on his companion in front of him but not really seeing him. Nyke istan somewhere else. Nyke gōntan daor recognize ziry, yn nyke istan watching nykēla. Gaomagon. Nyke gaomagon daor gīmigon, he began to say completely unaware that most of his words were foreign. He began to breath quickly, searching around him frantically, trying desperately to understand what was going on, but failing.

His eyes narrow slightly at the way Midar begins, but when he corrects himself his expression relaxes, satisfied and a little amused. He's not used to being taken so seriously — it's kind of nice. But before he can say anything in response, his companion seems to tense and his gaze is suddenly far-away. Midar? It slips out automatically as he watches, features twisting into a concerned frown. There's no response at first.
Then his lover is speaking — is he speaking? The words are unintelligible, or perhaps not words at all, save a few scattered pieces he cannot begin to understand. The hair along his spine raises somewhere around the word watching, and he suddenly wants nothing more than for Midar to stop. He tries to call his name again but his voice catches in his throat and all he can do is swallow hard, ears flat to his skull. He's frozen like that until the other starts to hyperventilate and stir as if searching for something, and the sight seems to break the spell. Midar, He tries again, voice soft but firm, and leans in to touch his cheek. His chest tightens, instinctual fear chilling his blood, but he refuses to flinch from the man; after watching him act like a grumpy toddler through this whole thing, he's not going to cower from a bunch of gibberish.

His breaths continued to move in and out of his chest too quickly, and the dark rage started building deep inside the beast--the feeling that always accompanied the knowing that there was something in his past he was missing. This time, though, he could actually recount the memory in vivid detail. The words meant something to him, but he couldn't piece it all together. He barely felt the touch; barely felt the presence of his companion. The rage was too much. Too much. It was all too much. He stood up, trying to catch his breath and still unable to. A frustrated growl left his chest, and he began to pace back and forth, back and forth. Why couldn't he remember his fucking life? Why was his useless brain only offering him glimpses into his past? Teasing him by dropping shit like this into his lap but not giving him the rest of the puzzle. 

Still he paced back and forth, muttering angrily under his breath. Then, something broke through the cloud of anger around his mind--a pain shooting down his shoulder every time he took a step until finally he stopped moving, his chest inflating and deflating a few times before he finally sat back down. Every single piece of Midar was beyond exhausted, and he no longer had the energy to stay awake. He slumped to the ground and fell into darkness.

An icy feeling settles over him when Midar doesn't acknowledge him. He sucks in a sharp breath as his lover stands, startled, and rises only a moment after him. Midar, He repeats, swallowing the panic rising like floodwater within, but nothing changes. He can only watch helplessly as Midar paces, wide-eyed and frozen. He can't imagine what this might be; something to do with his amnesia, surely, but — it suddenly strikes him that he's useless here.
He looks away for a moment, glancing back as he realizes his lover has suddenly halted. He hesitates, and before he can say anything the other collapses, sending him immediately to his side. His nose presses desperately into Midar's neck fur, searching for a pulse. A breath of relief escapes him when he finds it, though his heart still aches for his lover's suffering. He stays until Midar wakes, and then only long enough to assure himself that he'll be alright. Then he leaves reluctantly for Easthollow, single-minded in his quest.