#BLOWIN' THROUGH THE WIND .:. PERNE

[enfabled-archive]

“ i must be hurt pretty bad if you’re being this nice to me. “ ((this is too good for Tina and perne for me to not send it ajdhdj))

settling dust \\\ accepting!

          it's only when tina drops her comment that perne realizes he's spoiling her. did she think she was hurt? this was barely a scratch! hands stop their work. the cloth serving as a makeshift bandage stays half-wrapped around her knee as perne takes the time to snort.

          "psssh. don't flatter yourself, ya snot." he scoffs, "your li'l bruise ain't anything grand." 

          eyes flicker down to the discolored patches of reddened, lacerated skin that show beneath the bandage, and squint with condescension. with all her wailing about it, he'd have thought she'd chopped her leg off or something; this was hardly a scratch. it didn't even shed blood! 

          …but he'd offered to wrap it up, anyways. strange. it wasn't like her thief staff was gonna be any less efficient thanks to that cut of hers. she'd do her job just fine. it must be the symptoms of his bleeding heart.

          "'sides, i'm only doin' this so ya don't start wingin' later. gods know the last thing we need right now is some kid yowlin' like a pup."

          things settled, he continues his work, covering the rest of the bruise until the area is accounted for. he ties off the cloth and cuts through the excess with his knife. then, rising to his feet, he lets out a loud sigh, his hands coming to rest on his hips. 

          "well, there ya go. right as rain! now don't go around bustin' that thing open again, ya hear?" he wags a finger, "i want ya to heal that yerself. ya ain't gettin' another session with doctor perne."

[enfabled-archive]

            it's not often that he finds himself so uneasy within the borders of dakia. he's lived in the forest long enough that it's begun to feel like an extension of himself. he knows it better than the back of his hand; each gnarled root, each boot-trodden path of grass etched deep into the back of his eyes. dakia forest is the kingdom of which he is sovereign— never did he feel so skittish at its throne.

            and yet, as he patrols this humid night, he is fussful. careful in a way that he rarely ever is. the dandelion king walks the same route, traces the skirt of the woods with the same steps. but his feet lack the confidence. his eyes skip side-to-side with mistrust. where his rounds were usually strolls— moreso a contented meandering 'round dakia's borderline, complacency abound in the way its safety seemed always guaranteed— it has turned into a march.

            perne keeps a hand on his sword, fingers drumming against its pommel. THOSE IMPERIAL FREAKS… they were getting a bit brave, looming closer and closer to his turf like that. he's heard about what they've done to tahra— even seen the horrors for himself, from some of the fleeing townsfolk. then there's also the childhunts; the fucking insanity of the childhunts. he doesn't like the sound of that coming into dakia. not when their operations were risky enough as it is.

            he sighs as he steps over a fallen log. his eyes survey the darkness once more. he never liked this feeling. fear; anxiety, whatever else people called it. he never liked the way it kept him on a leash. but it's the one thing keeping them all from doing anything STUPID. if fear made him careful, and being careful meant being alive… he'd take it. anyone who wasn't shit for brains would.

            unfortunately for him, there are some real dunces in this world— like the brat blindly stumbling through his forest.

            he flinches when he first hears the footsteps. his restless hands quickly unsheathe his blade. but just as soon as he readies himself, he returns to a semblance of ease. the sounds are too clumsy to come from any sort of trained militiaman; and the shadow is too small to be anything dangerous. no, it's clear to him that this wasn't any sort of idiot— it was a kid.

              a curse almost wrests loose from his lips. he thinks dealing with an imperial soldier would've been easier. at least, then, he wouldn't have felt bad stabbing him.

            "oi, kid!" perne calls, "whatcha doin' out here? don't cha know it's dangerous wanderin'  around at night?"

            a groan leaves him. as if he hadn’t had enough things to worry about tonight. does he really have to think about this snot, too? "look, i ain’t got the time to deal with ya. scram! go back home. else those loptr lunatics'll snatch you right up."

@fillespreferees​ c’mon, before safy finds out!