If Rutile is counting, it is as subconscious as the tremors the thunder sends rattling through their core. Their eyes are still scraping the horizon when the Fool’s words, barely audible, reach them. Sharply their neck twists and they look down to find the Fool clutching his head with filthy fingers.
They don’t have personal experience with pain, and they told the Fool as much last they met. But Rutile has been among the company of humans long enough to recognize what is normal and what is not, and curling up and piteous moans are firmly the latter. Rutile crouches beside the Fool, their fingers hovering inches from his form. As delicate as a gem, he is, and not nearly as strong.
“Fool,” they murmur, closer to his ear. “You’ve spoken to the Turtle. I am going to take you home now.”
Without waiting for a protest or reply, Rutile wraps their arms around the Fool’s back and helps him to his feet, then in a couple of smooth motions sweeps another arm beneath his legs and cradles him to their chest. It is not the most efficient way to carry someone, but it is the one that will least bruise him - Rutile is not exactly a pillow. He is heavier than they expect him to be, but it is a trivial difference; they do not stagger as they adjust to their burden.
Then they set off up the shore and back toward the road. They’re no Yellow Diamond, but their speed is still more than they could have maintained had the Fool walked. They keep a brisk pace as they head back toward Aifaran and Die Rose Tulpe, rain hammering at their back and thunder echoing behind them.
no subject
They don’t have personal experience with pain, and they told the Fool as much last they met. But Rutile has been among the company of humans long enough to recognize what is normal and what is not, and curling up and piteous moans are firmly the latter. Rutile crouches beside the Fool, their fingers hovering inches from his form. As delicate as a gem, he is, and not nearly as strong.
“Fool,” they murmur, closer to his ear. “You’ve spoken to the Turtle. I am going to take you home now.”
Without waiting for a protest or reply, Rutile wraps their arms around the Fool’s back and helps him to his feet, then in a couple of smooth motions sweeps another arm beneath his legs and cradles him to their chest. It is not the most efficient way to carry someone, but it is the one that will least bruise him - Rutile is not exactly a pillow. He is heavier than they expect him to be, but it is a trivial difference; they do not stagger as they adjust to their burden.
Then they set off up the shore and back toward the road. They’re no Yellow Diamond, but their speed is still more than they could have maintained had the Fool walked. They keep a brisk pace as they head back toward Aifaran and Die Rose Tulpe, rain hammering at their back and thunder echoing behind them.