[PRP] The Morbid Medic (Jezabelle x Risk)

[Faithofthefallen]

The only sound that split the evening's serene quiet was the sharp staccato fall of steaming droplets of blood as they hit the carpet of dried and decaying leaves and the sharp gasps of the faintly glowing mare as she stumbled clumsily towards home. She favored her left front leg, the smooth limb was marred with a jagged bite wound, she had clumsily tied the strip of cloth she used as a blindfold during the daylight hours above the wound as a tourniquet to stop her from bleeding out but it was poorly done and the neccesity of walking on the limb was forcing more blood out through the painful wound and leaving her feeling weak and dizzy. She knew she would be attracting predators, the smell of her own blood was making her mouth water, but there was no help for it. She gripped her cleaver between her teeth tightly and hoped she had enough strength to defend herself if it came to that. Poking out of her satchel was a long rust colored scarf, you could barely tell due to the color but it was saturated with dried blood and shredded from claws and teeth marks. The scarf belonged to Jezabelle's daughter, Claudette, who had gone missing in the area. Belle had to blink back tears, she had found it just before the skinwalker attacked, she didn't know if it had been the same fate that had befallen her daughter, but the rage that had filled her at the thought of her child being in danger, possibly already gone, had given her the strength to fight her way free. With Chime's help to distract the walker, Belle had slayed her attacker and escaped, injured but alive. Her heart felt dead within her chest. Despite her injury she had combed the forest looking for Claudette's remains, or better yet an indication that she had escaped, to no avail. She would return later to continue to search but for now she needed assistance. There was no way she could make it back to her father's herdlands before she lost too much blood, but she had to try.

Sliding to the ground with a thick tree trunk against her back, she let the cleaver clatter down beside her, her faithful familiar Chime, who had been fluttering about her in a frenzy of worry hung from the branches above her, keeping watch for her mistress. Belle wished she could use one of her syringes on the injury but the solution that would numb the pain would also put her to sleep, that would not do. She had no idea what her next step would be, but for now she had to rest. She wrestled at the knot above her injury clumsily with her teeth, pulling it tight while she could to staunch the blood but unable to tie it firmly enough to keep the pressure in place while she moved.

"This is not turning out to be a good night," she muttered to herself.

musicaloner7

Sorry! I'm a waitress so weekends are busy and I kept having people show up randomly in the hours before and after work! Sorry about the length, I had to establish where she was in her storyline in my brain because I rp her at multiple life points sometimes xD

 

[musicaloner7]

Faithofthefallen

No worries, not a problem! I'm grateful for you starting this up for us, especially given your busy schedule.

How long had it been now since he'd left the herd he'd been bred, and raised in? It felt far too long now. The days passed by so lethargically without any means of entertainment, excitement, or grand disruptance in the monotony that lollygagged. Truly, things were rather dull. It wasn't all it seemed cracked up to be, based off of the stories of wonder and thrill that were told daily back home. Enticing tales of adventure, romance, decadence, and titillating drama. While Risk wasn't entirely disappointed, he was mildly confused and curious as to just where his kin had discovered places that held what they spoke of. Maybe he was in the wrong place....

The mixbreed kept a leisurely pace throughout his aimless wandering, feeding both on fresh hunted meat, along with the occasional vegetation for additional flavor. It was in these times that he did come upon discoveries of flora that were not native to his lands, yet recognizable from descriptions and teachings. So it was not all for naught. At least some stories were proving themselves to be true...

Night was probably the more promising of time periods, as opposed to its brother Day. This was when his fellow predators dared to creep from their caves, dens, and shadows in pursuit of foolish prey. The cries of agony, death, and distress filled the air from time to time, like a beautiful aria to Risk's ears. He would take refuge either in the open plains, or within thickly clad forests, just laying or standing stock still, as though he were a statue, and staring into the distance... sometimes at the sky, unblinking. However tonight was different...

The winds had brought forth a lovely, delicious little message in the form of one of the most wonderful of perfumes; blood. Something nearby was expelling the fresh liquid rather excessively, judging by how ripe, and pungent the metallic cologne was. It was impossible for Risk to ignore it, instantly following the sources trail with a trained nose. Dark, glowing eyes shifted only faintly as he walked along fluidly, and carefully, checking any sort of movement that caught his attention. But it became unnecessary as he drew near the culprit of the oozing life source, and the tree that it was taking solace under.

Spotting the female, and taking a moment to analyze her from the distance given, a slow increase of excitement began to bubble in his stomach. She was hurt with a rather nasty looking wound! The glee that was growing inside of him was expressed along his features to convey a rather inappropriately pleased display at his discovery. Visually perking up, he advanced closer, sleek, elongated tail flicking and curling behind him with vigor. He stopped only a few paces off from her, staring intently at the shoddily covered gouge, eyes never blinking once, nostrils flared slightly to inhale the aroma.

"My, how did you come by that?" he asked in a far too casual, and intrigued voice.  

[Faithofthefallen]

Belle's hackles went up as Chime emitted a high pitch chirp and left her perch to dart and circle around the newcomer.
She shifted, gritting her teeth as the movement pulled at the wound's edges, sending a searing pain through her nerves. She couldn't run, wouldn't get far if it came down to that, she would tire to quickly from the blood loss and she could quite possibly bleed out before she made it more than a mile. Dead was dead, and she could not help her daughter if she passed on before warning the rest of her family what had befallen Claudette.

Chime's repetitive squeaks grew closer, Belle knew that someone approached her, she sniffed delicately and scowled, she had left a wide blood trail and a scent trail through the forest, she hadn't been this clumsy in well... Ever.

Then again, she had never suffered such a grievous injury either.

Jezabelle studied the stallion calmly as he approached, his skull like markings and poisonous coloring were eerie in the scanty light that penetrated the overhanging branches, she was not one to judge a book by its' cover but the fact that he had been attracted by the smell of her blood , his nostrils were flared with the scent of it, did not bode well for the mare. Her eyelashes fluttered tiredly, her strength waning, but her large scarlet pupils remained fixed to the stallion, they were glassy, but filled with a icy resolve. She would not give up without a fight, her cleaver lay within easy reach, should he try to attack, she would play the helpless victim and then slit his throat when he came within range.

There, he had spotted her, his eyes burned with a macabre glee as he beheld the blood staining her side crimson. He approached eagerly and then stopped, staring at her wordlessly. Her mouth twisted grimly, "You seem to have caught me at a disadvantage," she quipped with a wry smile.

Her eyes flicked down to the shoddy bandage and back up, "I know, its not much to look at, but it was the best I could manage under the circumstances... I'm afraid I wasn't expecting to be ripped open when I left my home earlier this evening. Had I anticipated such a turn of events, I would have brought something more suitable..." She glared at the trail of blood, "A blanket perhaps."

She held his gaze with her own, "Do you intend to finish me off here and now, or just wait until I lose so much blood that I pass on my own?"

musicaloner7

Edited because I was rereading and found punctuation mistakes xD -shot-

 

[musicaloner7]

Faithofthefallen

Such a wondrous sight she was to behold, the thrill rippling under his skin, through the rest of his body as he drew closer. The little bird was paid little mind as he was so very interested and focused on the fallen mare, eyes sliding along her figure meticulously... almost as though he didn't want to miss a single part of it. The only sort of resolve he could find in how she must have gained such a wound would have surely been from sort of battle. Even with the little he could see, the placement was in a precariously difficult to reach spot that... only another could even touch.

Tail continuing to twine, and wind behind him as if it were a wriggling worm, taking on a life of its own, Risk gave a delayed reaction to the mare's words as they were spoken, his intense gaze honed in on the injury far too pointedly. He didn't respond back, just yet, his hooves lifting and place to bring him a bit closer for an even more detailed inspection, but not close enough for contact. The shoddy job of the bandaging was distracting, a little... the natural teachings drilled into him plucking and poking at his preoccupied mind and attention. For now, her voice was white noise as his mind went into an intricate mode of analysis. From how the wound might have been gained, her current strength remaining, the exertion used, if the blood was solidifying yet, scabbing, or still running freely, the chances of infection, what blood type she may be, and so and so forth rattled off like wild behind those bone-chilling eyes of his.

Finally, after what seemed to be a far too pregnant silence on his end, the stallion straightened up a little more, and slid his eyes painfully oddly to even lock onto his now deemed patient's.

"No, I will not be the one to kill you, as delightful as it may be to slowly, and painfully do so. And yes, you did an absolutely horrific job of concealing and treating your injury." glancing to it with a very brief twitch of his eyes--from it back to her gaze-- his head tilted ever so subtly, "I wish to take a closer look at it. Would you mind me in doing so, or have you the intention to use that upon my own hide?" his eyes flickered unnervingly quickly again to the cleaver laying within her reach, then back to her again expectantly. "As I have already stated, I do not wish to end your life, but inspect that of which you've brought upon yourself. If you should refuse, than I shall simply stay and wait until you do indeed lose too much blood to remain conscious." he was a stallion of his word, after all. A cardinal code held within the herd.

 

[Faithofthefallen]

Belle drew back slightly as the strange stallion drew closer, cautiously trying to watch his eyes as well as any minute muscle twitches that may give her some warning if he decided to attack.

The silence between them was pregnant with a breathless tension, Belle scooted ever so slightly closer to her blade, her eyes narrowing as she mentally prepared herself to unleash a violence that would surpass anything she had done in the years before she had committed to satisfying her thirst without killing. It would have to be quick, she needed to find help before she lost control of her limbs and faded away. Claudette's life depended on her surviving this encounter, the image of the tattered and bloodstained scarf hung heavily in her mind. Jezabelle would not stop, she would not surrender, she would never give in to death while one of her children was in danger. Adrenaline flooded her veins with an icy resolve, the predator withing the sweet natured mare reared its' head and peered at the Stallion through her crimson eyes and promised death.

But wait.
Belle's breath hitched as she stumbled away from the killing edge, blinking slowly. His words made her mouth twist but as his meaning dawned on her she slowly, ever so slowly, relaxed.
She held his gaze for a few heartbeats, daring him to lie to her, was help truly so near? She smiled grimly that he had noticed her blade, there was no longer any need for pretense then, she reached over and pulled it closer to herself. "I haven't decided yet," she replied, baring her sharpened canines cheekily, "but... You may look." Her glare sharpened, "If by bringing this on myself you are implying that I invited that skinwalker to sharpen its' fangs on my flesh, you and I must fundamentally disagree on the meaning of that idiom."

The blood was still flowing from her wound, but it was slowing. She had a moment's hope that she might not bleed to death after all if she had the patience to wait for it to heal, if the flesh didn't mortify, if she didn't move around too much and break the delicate seal on her blood vessels... Well she had neither patience nor time and if it came down to a choice, she was going to move from this spot even if it cost her her life or the limb. Belle hissed out a breath as she shifted her weight, slowly extending her injured limb towards the stallion, it had already stiffened in this short amount of time, the flow of blood increased again, sending a wave of dizziness through her. Her eyes rolled back momentarily before she could struggle back to consciousness.

The thought of the stallion standing over her until she passed out made her wince, "If you could fix it, or at least staunch the bleeding, I would be grateful." She admitted grudgingly, "I was attacked searching for my daughter, Claudette, she's been missing for some time now, I had just found evidence that she had been injured when I was attacked." She took a deep breath to calm the pounding of her heart, that wouldn't help, "I need to get home, my family can bring help to find her, but the blasted creature mauled me enough to practically hobble me. I can't make it back to my herd;s lands like this, my name is Belle, Jezabelle, will you help me?"
A hint of desperate pleading flavored her voice, making her blood boil, she was not a weakling, but it was a mark of wisdom to know when help was needed.

musicaloner7