Mycah threw another twig on the fire and sighed heavily. Had the assassins followed them into the woods? Had anyone else they knew made it out, or were they the only survivor? Mycah shook their head sharply, driving the thoughts from their mind. Thinking about those things would only drive them insane, and that was the last thing they needed. To distract themself, Mycah started humming one of their favorite songs. And the humming soon turned into singing softly, because they just couldn't help themselves. Let the assassins find them. Less work in the long run, anyways.
Winter heard singing, and followed the sound. Maybe whoever was singing could help him out? Fix his eyes, maybe. He was pretty sure that there was ink or juice or blood or something in them. He was pretty sure he wasn't permanently blind. Or at least, he hoped he wasn't. That would suck ass.
Mycah kept singing, resisting the urge to sing even louder. Even if they didn't care about the assassins finding them, they didn't want to purposely bring other creatures towards them. Fighting the wild animals in the forest didn't sound like a fun time. The first song ended and they started in on a second. Another look around their camp revealed nothing, though they couldn't be sure how correct that assessment was. Curse the fire, but it had either been fire or freezing to death in damp cloaths. They'd chosen the fire option, obviously.
He could see a blur of light, and hoped it was the source of the voice. "Hello?" he called. His voice was raw and scratchy, and for the first time he wondered what condition his clothes were in. If they were bloodspattered or torn or dirty. He didn't know.
"That was fast," Mycah muttered to themself, standing up and turning towards the voice. "Who's there?" They called into the darkness, straining their eyes for anything moving. It looked like there was something, but it might have just been a trick of the eye. Just in case they had to fight, Mycah held their arm towards the voice. They wouldn't kill them at once, but it was better to be prepared for the worse.
"Ah…my name is Winter Iveman." Winter called back, still stumbling towards the voice, arms feeling in front of him so he didn't slam into anything. "And I…am in need of some assistance? Please?" he bit his lip a little bit, tripped over a tree root, and crashed to the ground.
Winter Iveman? Mycah didn't know anyone by that name. And the chance that this was the way the assassins were going to get him were slim to none. Mycah took a few steps towards the voice, waiting for their eyes to adjust to the darkness before going any further. Their eyes narrowed at the sound of someone crashing to the ground. Was this Winter blind?
"Alright." Mycah hurried towards where they heard the crash, coming upon an absolute mess of a human sprawled out on the ground. "You look like trash," They commented, not making any moves to help the person up.
Winter groaned softly, his tall body curled around itself. He sat up slowly, touching his nose gingerly. It had slammed into the ground and was now bleeding down his face. Again. It had been bleeding earlier, and he could feel the old blood there cracking against his skin. "Thanks, mysterious voice." he grumbled, hauling himself to his feet.
"What are you doing out here?" Mycah stepped back slightly as Winter got up, not wanting to get too close to a potential enemy. Although it seemed that he was blind, or partially blind. And he seemed beat up. He was very tall, though, with about a foot or so on Mycah. That could give him an advantage. "We're in the middle of the woods." It was, of course, possible that they were both on the same side. Mycah was sure Winter wasn't one of the elite soldiers, but he might be a regular magic-user who'd escaped.
"Uhm…I don't know." he admitted. He didn't even know where "here" was. He rubbed at his eyes, wincing as that only aggravated them more, tears slipping out. Not because he was upset, but because it hurt a fucking lot, and that was his body's automatic response. He wiped at his face.
"Hmm." Mycah considered the man in front of them. The decent thing to do would bring him to the campfire and try and help him. That's what Allx would want them to do. Allx wasn't here, but… "You're in the middle of the Nothern Forest. I have a fire if you're cold. Follow me." They paused for a few seconds, then turned and walked slowly towards the campfire, making a bit more noise than usual.
Winter followed after the other person, stumbling a little bit. Everything was blurry. He couldn't even make out shapes anymore, just vague changes in the light. He groaned softly, shaking his head quickly. "Fuck, this sucks." he muttered under his breath.
Mycah led the way back into the circle of light. They weren't sure if Winter could see the fire, and they really didn't feel like lighting it again, so they stopped and gave him a gentle push towards the log they'd been sitting on before. Hopefully, he wouldn't go crazy and try and kill Mycah for touching him. They knew a few people like that and they sucked. "There's a log somewhere in front of you to sit on. Don't trip over it."
Winter nodded. He felt around for the log before plopping down on it. Now that he was in the light, it was obvious that he was bloodstained, his clothes torn and damaged. But the blood was worrisome. It was splashed on his sleeves, on his throat and chest, down the sides too.
Mycah stayed standing, taking in the man in front of him now that they could actually see him. He really had a lot of blood on him. "Are you hurt?" They asked, frowning. "You're covered in blood." Mycah crossed their arms over their chest, glad for the heat of the fire. Their clothes were still slightly damp, and they'd been annoyed about that before they'd seen Winter. Now they were glad it was just a little rainwater.
Winter thought for a moment, then shook his head. "No. I don't think so." he didn't seem aware of the blood, moving a little bit. His eyes were red and irritated, blinking and unfocused.
"Your eyes are." Mycah took a step closer to Winter. His eyes looked terrible, though they didn't know why. "What did you do to them?" They looked down at the backpack sitting near the log– the only thing they'd been able to bring with them. It had a water bottle in it– though there wasn't enough water in it to clean all the blood off of Winter. He'd need a pond for that.
Winter shook his head slightly. "I, uhm, I don't know." he admitted, eyes turning in Mycah's direction, but not quite focusing on the other male. He let out a sigh, rubbing at his face again, wanting to see but unable to.
"I have some water if you need to clean your eyes out," Mycah offered, hating themselves for it. They walked to the backpack and knelt down, quickly unzipping the backpack and pulling out the water bottle. "Here." Mycah held it out to Winter, tapping it on his arm in case he couldn't see it. Now they'd need to find another water source. Great.
Winter bit his lip, hesitantly taking the water. "You sure?" he asked, not opening it up yet. "I don't want to take your stuff." he said slowly, looking in Mycah's general direction still.
"It's fine," Mycah said, standing up and walking around Winter to sit on the log next to him. They tried to keep their voice pleasant, but they were sure it came out a little sharp. "If I let you wander blindly around the forest, I'd be a monster. I leave being a monster to the Alumi." Was it a risk, letting Winter know their views on the new government? Probably. Did they care? No.
Winter blinked slowly at that, and nodded. "Alright." he replied simply. He cautiously poured some water onto his eyes, hissing between his teeth. It stung like hell. "Nine hells that hurts." he hissed, shaking his head a little bit.
So Winter didn't immediately jump up and try to kill them. That was a start, at least. Mycah scooted down the log a bit so they wouldn't get splashed with water. They watched Winter pour the water into his eyes, their nose wrinkling slightly in sympathy at his hiss of pain. They didn't want to be in his place, that was for sure. Mycah was still very curious about why Winter was wandering around the woods half-blind and covered in blood, but that could wait.
Winter blinked, eyes starting to clear up. He tried a little more water, the water streaming down his face and jaw, down his neck, pooling against his collarbone. He set the water aside, blinking and rubbing his eyes. "That'll do for now." he blinked more, trying to clear his vision up. "Thank you…?"
Mycah nodded, glad that Winter hadn't used all the water. "Mycah Harrow." They didn't particularly like giving out their name since it usually conjured up images of a ruthless sniper who didn't care who died, but it would make talking easier. Mycah hoped Winter was a hermit or something who'd never heard of them. They didn't want to deal with the "oh, gods, you're Mycah Harrow! You've done stuff!" or whatever stuff people usually said when they met Mycah.
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