After having all but torn the bodies into little bits, consciousness pushed at the Wendigos skull. It gave an angry screech, beginning to shift back to normal. After a minute or so, Cyrus was laying on the ground, curled up as he held his uneasy stomach. He was covered in blood, and he could tell that it was human.
Erikos stumbled into the cabin, wincing as he dragged his torn leg along. He walked into the bathroom, fishing a large first aid kit out before sitting on the edge of the sink and beginning to tend to his wounds
Cyrus managed to crawl a bit away from the gruesome site, his bones and muscles hurting terribly from shifting. He inhaled sharply, smelling at the air and frowned. He smelled a familiar scent. Erikos? Was he okay? But his scent was on his clothes too, and his hands. He gagged at the thought of some of this blood belonging to Erikos, so he began to make his way to the cabin.
Erikos hissed as he began to stitch together what he could reach of the torn fins on his tail. He hated needles, and hated having to touch his fins. They were annoyingly sensitive when torn, which was often since they were the wendigos' favorite places to rip into him
Cyrus eventually got to the front door, knocking on it. He waited anxiously, and quickly shrugged off his flannel, peeling off his blood soaked tshirt before putting the flannel back on.
Erikos snarled, slamming the needle down on the bathroom sink. He limped over to the door, flinging it open with a scowl. His eyes widened at the sight of Cyrus, bloodstained and waiting. "Come in," he muttered before turning around
Cyrus breathed out a sigh of relief when he saw Erikos was alive, but tensed up again when he noticed that he looked different and injured. He stepped inside, buttoning up his flannel to cover the skin on his chest and stomach. He tended to be quite self conscious about himself. Because he barely ever ate things that his body actually needed, he was very slim with the slightest bit of muscle. “Did I do that to you?” He asked in a choked up tone.
"No, Nami and her damn groupies did. You did almost eat me before you decided you didn't have a taste for demons," Erikos muttered bitterly, rubbing at his chipped and dented antler as he made his way back towards the bathroom. He hopped up on the sink again, wincing as he returned to stitching up the webbing on his tail
“Is this my fault?” Cyrus asked when Erikos seemed to be getting annoyed by him. “What did it do?” He asked, referencing the other part of him.
"You went to the lake, like I told you not to do. You ran into Nami and her groupies, which went about as well as expected. And then she got pissed at me and let the others tear me apart before tossing me at you to eat," Erikos muttered bitterly, not even looking at Cyrus as he hissed when the needle caught on one of his spines
“I couldn’t help if it went to the lake or not. We are two separate things, and it does what it wants. If I was able to, I would have listened to you,” Cyrus retorted, a slight edge in his tone now. Erikos kept saying ‘you’, like it was him who had control, when he had explained before how he was blacked out when shifted into that thing.
"Okay, whatever. Make yourself useful and hand me that bottle of whiskey," Erikos said, pointing with a webbed hand towards a bottle of whiskey on a small table a few feet away. He hissed faintly again as he managed to stitch together the largest laceration on his fins
Cyrus chewed on his lower lip as he nodded, grabbing the bottle and holding it out to Erikos. The tension in the air was obvious, and he shifted his weight where he was standing near the doorway.
Erikos grabbed it from him, chugging the half-empty bottle before eating the glass. He shifted a bit, struggling to get to a large cut near the base of his tail. He gave a growl of frustration, unable to reach it to do anything with it
“Do you need help?” Cyrus offered in a timid manner. He rubbed at the nape of his neck timidly as he looked at Erikos, jaw clenched slightly.
Erikos sighed. "Yeah," he muttered before handing him a piece of gauze and a roll of bandages. He turned a bit so it would be easier for Cyrus to get to the cut
Cyrus crouched down, taking the bandages and gauze from Erikos. Carefully, he pressed the gauze to the cut, holding it there while he wrapped it with bandages tightly.
Erikos didn't flinch or hiss this time, simply took another bite of the empty bottle of whiskey. "I'm sorry for getting upset with you," he mumbled. "I just…You know what? Not even going to make excuses for myself. I'm a dick, and I shouldn't have snapped at you."
“It’s okay,” Cyrus said in a quiet tone. “I understand. You got hurt and you needed someone to blame.”
"See, now you're pitying me, and that's bad because I don't deserve it," Erikos said, waving his arms theatrically before letting them rest in his lap
“No, I’m being completely serious,” Cyrus insisted, shifting so he was now sitting down on the floor of the bathroom instead. He wrapped his arms around his knees now, seeming almost like a child.
Erikos slid off the sink, plopping down next to him despite the cut in his leg that was still oozing blood. "Look, I'm sorry. And I don't say this often because usually I'm the guy who doesn't give a shit about anyone or anything. But I'm sorry."
“I already said that it was okay, Erikos,” Cyrus said. He stayed in the same position, all curled in on himself. That was one of his flaws, he was too sensitive about this sort of thing at times.
“You know what? I’m gonna get you a fresh change of clothes and I’m gonna try to cook something vegan to make up for my dickery,” Erikos said before standing. Unfortunately his leg took the opportunity to give out and send him sprawling onto Cyrus
“You really don’t have to do that,” Cyrus started, but his breath caught in his throat when Erikos fell on top of him. His cheeks flushed a shade of red on his pale skin, and he looked at Erikos with slightly widened eyes. “Are you okay?”