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Werymn held no quarrel with rain. As a Water Earthling, he enjoyed the lingering moisture in the air, reveled in the pitter-patter of the drops against his skin and over the land. The cool wind that rain brought was always welcome, especially while traveling. He didn't mind the rain, grey, haze, or fog. When the clouds had first rolled in, and his companion had bristled with such clear distaste that Wer couldn't help but notice, he'd merely chuckled. "Relax, Dovev," he'd said with a pleasant shrug. It was just water, nothing to be afraid of.

But that had been at the outset. As the clouds continued to thicken, and the drops became heavier, and the winds became more violent, Wer felt a nagging in the back of his mind. The storm didn't seem too eager to let up anytime soon. If anything, it seemed to constantly worsen.

By the time the first bright flash of lightning arced across the sky, they'd established their campsite. No amount of tarp could keep the battering rain from reaching their tents. No amount of long grass protective the site could deter the wind. No amount of blanket could block out the harsh jar of thunder that had Wer cowering between his blankets like a frightened raptrix pup. When the sound reached him, he whimpered, shuddering in terror as he tucked his nose to the ground. "It can't hurt you. It's just noise, it can't hurt you..." he whispered softly, clenching the blankets over his head.

When he was very small, Eialyn, the elder Water servant that belonged to the family before Wer did, had held him during the largely infrequent storms that fleetingly hit Oba. She'd whispered comfortingly to him while he cowered in her lap. And when she'd passed, he'd had Laric, who'd hid under the bed with him while trying not to laugh at his servant's fear. Even that had been some sort of acceptable comfort from the brash and violent sounds that the sky had no business making unless it was really, truly upset. He'd even had stone between him and the noise in Oba.

Now he had... A tarp. And blankets. "It can't hurt you," he pleaded to himself on repeat, tiny dots of moisture welling up in his eyes that had nothing to do with the rain.

The sounds outside were not any more welcome than the sounds from the sky. To be quite frank, Wer wasn't entirely sure if he was fear-hallucinating voices or if they were actually real. It seemed like a truly elaborate discussion to be concocted from his mind, though... And on another note, the voices really could be attached to bodies that really did want to take what little the two travelers currently had. That certainly wouldn't serve his goals any... So the question became; was it more beneficial to cower from thunder or to protect the things that would aid him on his quest?

Werymn dipped his head out from under the blankets, peering past tent flap and tarp and out into the murky wilderness beyond. "Dovev?" He whispered softly, voice carried little more than a few inches from his face. The Water Earthling peeked up. The thunder had subsided for the moment, though the rain was as unrelenting as ever. Even so, as long as he didn't have to deal with that jarring noise... He moved slowly, crawling out from beneath the blankets on all fours until he could see beyond the confines of the tent.

Dovev stood several yards away, a body dropped to the ground near his feet. Werymn's golden eyes widened ever-so-slightly. There really were others. He scrambled to his feet, pushed his way out of the tent and scurried to plant himself at Dovev's side. Or back. Or wherever he felt safest.

But an arm lodged in the back of his shirt ripped Wer to a halt with a garbled sound of distress. "Dovev!" He shrieked out in alarm, arms flailing backwards at his captor as a knife was produced and brandished at him.

Wer stiffened as the bandit's voice rang out over his shoulder. His words weren't particularly kind or considerate, but rather than fear, they only instilled an offended sense in the small Water boy. He opened his mouth to argue that he had another lad that he'd rather feel the insides of, but a shock of thunder had him quieting, flinching, and flailing out to catch hold of the bandit's arm as a form of security. ANother second later, and lightning zipped over his shoulder. He could physically feel the charge of it tickle his skin, and his eyes snapped shut.

And then he was on the ground, shoved to his hands and knees in front of his tent in the mud like an animal. He tilted his head back to glare at Dovev, another argument on his lips, this time imbued with a note of rage, "They're wrecking our things!" He hissed, casting a glance back at the tent riddled with arrows. "Do something now before I have to handle this drastically, and you don't-"

A screech pierced the air; neither human nor of any creature native to Juahar. Feet thundered, branches broke, and there was a distinctive thrash to the brush that suggested something wild approached. Things snapped that certainly didn't sound like they'd been made of wood. And a moment later, a blur of red and orange was arcing through the trees. The blur had tiny arms, a large tail. It smacked anything that stood before it before letting out another call, it's gaze alert, roving, and possessing an intelligence beyond that of a wild beast.

Wer sat up, enough that his arms weren't driving through mud. When his yellowed gaze landed on the creature, "Xeeta!" he proclaimed, a high an delighted twinge entering his voice. The creature 'chirrup'ed, its legs kicking at the mud in disgust. Around its neck, it bore a scroll case, though was adorned with little else. It tottered toward Werymn in what seemed to be distinctively lighter spirits.

Wer's fingers found the xaraan's frame almost instantly, latching his muddy digits into the thick coat of feathers and drawing it near. Xeeta seemed decidedly less amused by the Water lad's situation. Mud, grime, rain, thunder, strangers. These were things the red-feathered companion had little patience for, and he leaned down to huff out a quite reprimand in Wer's ear. How dare he be way out here in this ungodly environment? And with these rash and uncultured specimens... The xaraan gave an added kick to a body laying nearby, just so that Werymn would know of his displeasure.

"I know, I know..." the Water boy cooed, immediately taking less interest in the beast's grievances and more interest in the warmth his face found when buried in Xeeta's neck. "Oh, I've missed you, yes I have..." For a moment, he forgot where he was and was he was doing. The familiarity of his four-legged companion was enough to pull him back home, away from the dieing sounds of thunder and the rain that swamped them. The majority of the bandits had been disposed of, and there was just Wer and the family xaraan left.

"This is a long way for you to travel alone..." He murmured, fingers scaling down the sides of its neck and bumping briefly against the buckle of the scroll case it bore. For a moment, his attention riveted to that spot.

But then there was Dovev's voice, unfamiliar in his distant memories and drawing Wer back to the time at hand. "Yes," he answered, a clip of annoyance to his tone. Bandits had found them. Nearly killed them, if he was being quite honest. And while Dovev seemed capable of taking on one or two, Wer didn't enjoy the odds they'd been faced with. And he certainly didn't enjoy the amount of supplies that had been ruined. "And I think you owe Xeeta a bit of thanks," Wer quipped. "You were in a real bind with all those bandits, and quite frankly, lucky to have come out in one piece as you did. Without him, I fail to see how you would've come out of this so easy."

His fingers looped around the buckle, and Wer moved, dragging at the creature as he turned to take a step... When his foot met the ground, he yelped, knee buckling beneath his own weight as gravity threatened to drag him to the mud once more. Xeeta chirped, diving to snap his beak up into the fabric of Wer's shirt and hold him. The Water boy, meanwhile, scraped his fingers down the length of his muddy thigh, pausing as his palms brushed over a pain that flared up in the form of a deep, straight gouge scraping down toward his knee. "It- I... was hit..."

Could he? Werymn's mind shouted at the older Water man as blue palms moved to hesitantly lay atop the scrape. Could he see that Wer was hit? A string of defiant and irritable snaps tumbled forth from his lips, stilled only by a great show of willpower. And a cry of pain. Wer yipped out softly as the applied pressure only served to make the pain worse. Who wouldn't thought? He swallowed nervously, desperately trying to peer through the tatters of his pants and the mud splattered across everything. Xeeta's beak was still lodged in the back of his shirt, holding him up.

Which suddenly didn't seem like such a swell plan. Standing would make the blood flow faster. Hurriedly, Wer patted his bird companion's beak, coaxing the creature to lower and release him.

And then Dovev was there, crouching down to Wer's level and running rain-cooled fingers along his leg. Along his thigh. In another time, Werymn might have blushed because he'd only ever imagined Laric touching him anywhere so close. But as quickly as the thought came, it was dashed, and the smaller male was adamantly pressing his palms to Dovev's shoulders,hissing out that he didn't want or need to be stitched, and it should be enough to just clean and wrap it, and-

He had to look away with a whimper, fingers crimping in the fabric of his companion's shirt, struggling not to kick out at him as the needle dipped into his skin- in and out. "Dovev," he mewled pitifully, muscles bunching, breath heaving, and fingers fisting against the larger male. He knew there were worse fates. But in this particular instant, he felt he hadn't done anything that merited being punished. That was the only reason he deserved to be hurt; because he'd done something to earn it.

Not this time.

Wer whimpered, squirming as Dovev continued his work and only barely kept himself from shoving the older male away. His grasping fingers were caught somewhere between clinging to him and forcing as much space between them as he could. He hadn't done anything, Wer's mind whispered. He shouldn't have been shot in the first place. Why would the gods allow him to be injured if not as a punishment? And as far as the lanky Water lad could feel, Dovev's only goal was to make it worse. And by no means did he want worse than a gaping gash across his leg.

"Stop..." The word came out as a panted whisper, barely loud enough to be discernible. But then Dovev was pulling the thread through one final time and shifting away, as if answering Werymn's pleas. The smaller boy took a few heaving breaths, gaze trained on the neatly wrapped bandage around his leg. Still stung. Burned, even. The whole of it was uncomfortable, and the bandage was unsightly. Not... poorly placed or applied, just... Wer glowered at it, annoyed at the burn and the mud and ruination of his things.

He clenched his eyes shut, knowing he'd brought this whole task on himself. It was no one's fault but his own that he was out here. But he certainly didn't appreciate it. "Thank you," he grumbled out to Dovev, only barely stopping himself from adding something bitter and disheartening. Dovev rarely showed a great plethora of emotion, so it likely wouldn't have affected him. But it was rude, and he bit the commentary back.

"Message?" Werymn's gaze flicked briefly out to the xaraan, who snorted and tossed his head, before traveling back to settle on Dovev again. "Yes..." He grumbled. "I suppose I should." Walking seemed like a hazardous and painstaking effort. Particularly in the dark and the mud, but Xeeta was at his side in an instant, offering a back for Wer to settle his hand on and giving him careless nudges to coax him forward. To be frank, the Water lad could do without the pushing. But he chuckled nonetheless, quickly flopping down into the minimal security of the tent and beckoning his xaraan to bring his head down.

It was not his intention to stay for long. Being free of Juahar would not come soon enough, particularly after the night's events. Already he felt a weakness the threatened to send him home, and as his fingers undid the clasp at Xeeta's neck, Wer stalled.

No doubt the message was from Laric. It could've taken Xeeta days, weeks to find him, so it may well have been written right after he left. There was no way to know until he read it, and yet... Wer swallowed, promptly tucking the paper back in its case and fastening it around the beast's neck again. He was already in this weakened state. Already had doubts. Reading anything from Laric would... not make anything easier. He turned his head, finding his way down into the netting that would keep insects away. When he was stronger, when he felt better, then he would have time for Laric's pleas for him to return.

Only then.

For now, best to 'rest' as Dovev said. Though that would likely not come easily here.