“Halo, run,” Thatcher managed to yell after a moment. The man above him smacked the butt of his rifle against his face multiple times, and he knew that it would be bruised in multiple places. The other man was nearing close, now in sight as he walked across the yard.
Halo heard the other yell before seeing the man. He squeaks in fear, spreading his wings to make himself seem bigger. Glitch leaps out of his arms, growling and attacking the man. Glitch was easily thrown off, making a sharp 'yelp' of pain. Halo's eyes widen as he stares at his limp dog, then the man. He trembles before making his wings create a huge gust of wind. The men flies back, and Halo glances towards the ground then takes a deep breath. He was terrified, shaking. The man raised his gun, aiming for his chest. Halo shoots into the sky, disappearing in the clouds.
Thatcher couldn’t see what was going on, as blood was dripping into his eyes from a big gash above his eyebrow. The man had leveled his rifle to his face, before he was suddenly ripped away, hitting a nearby tree with a ‘thunk’. He sat himself up a bit, his hound off to the side and ripping away the man’s limbs. He slowly stumbled to his feet, giving a slight pained groan as he did so. Nike padded over, giving a whine as one of the heads nudged and licked at his face. He made his scythe appear, using it to help him walk a bit. He must have fallen strange on his ankle, and it ached as he walked. He stumbled out into the clearing, whistling for Nike to take care of the man who was standing there.
Halo sees Nike and Thatcher, his body relaxing as he slowly flies down. He had luckily missed the gruesome death of both the hunters, but that wasn't his main focus. He picks up Glitch gently, his head bowed and his bangs hiding his eyes.
Thatcher used his trench coat sleeve to wipe off the blood on his face. He saw Halo, and made his way over to him. “Your dog..” he said, though he was already sure that Halo could tell.
Halo holds Glitch tightly, silent tears slipping down his face. He felt like something was slowly destroying him from the inside as his heart was torn to shreds.
Thatcher frowned slightly, Nike moving to sit behind him, still on alert for other men. It was obvious that the small dog was dead, and after a moment of thought, he took out the slip of paper. He was able to heal things as well, bring them back. The only downside- it took years off of his own life. He had never done it on an animal, either, so he had no clue how well it would work. “You do know that I can help.”
"I know… but I know the consequences as well." He whispers. "It takes from your own life force." He looks up, "G-Glitch was my best friend for a time, b-but… he's a dog. He didn't deserve it… but he's happy now, right?" he says, smiling weakly. "I think it's time I let him sleep."
“There were no big consequences, very minor ones. But if you do not want to bring him back, then it’s your decision,” Thatcher said, adjusting his grip on his scythe.
He looks towards Thatcher. "B-but your life would be used…" He says, his eyes going wide. He didn't want to waste Thatchers life force.
“Only around one hundred years. My kind lives for five thousand, so one hundred simple years are nothing to me,” Thatcher answered. Why was he worrying so much about this? Usually he would never offer it heal anything, he would be forced it do so. But he was.. fond of Halo so far for not using his services in a terrible and exhausting way. He thought that Halo deserved something in response.
Halo bites his lip before nodding slowly. "O-okay." he whispers. He takes a breath, his small, slender hands opening for the paper and the pen.
Thatcher dropped the pen and paper into Halo’s open hands. He looked down at the dog, Nike giving a soft whine behind him. She knew exactly what he was going to do. He reached over, rubbing at the hounds middle head in a soothing manner.
Slowly, with shaking his hands, he wrote down 'Glitch'. He hands the paper to Thatcher and hands him the paper. He was quiet as he does so.
Thatcher looked down at the writing before shifting his scythe a bit. He held out his arm, slicing his wrist open deeply with the blade. He winced, looking like he was in genuine pain from it. Normally, wounds like this from other weapons wouldn’t hurt too much, but this was his scythe, the only weapon that could truly cause harm to him, could kill him. He let the blood drip from his wrist, first onto the paper, then onto the dogs fur.
Halo watches, wincing when the other slits his wrist. "Are you okay?" He asks gently, watching as the blood drips onto his dog. He glances at Thatcher, his eyes filled with worry.
“I will be fine,” Thatcher mumbled, watching the blood drip. After a minute, he moved his wrist away. “The dog should be awake in no more than an hour. It just depends on the extent of his injuries.”
He nods and looks towards the cut. "Do you want me to wrap that?" Halo asks softly, still nervous and worried about Thatcher.
“Yes please,” Thatcher answered after a moment of thought. His other injuries, like the bruises that were forming on his cheekbones and around his eye sockets would heal quickly. But the cut on his wrist would take longer to, just like it would if he was a normal human. And all because he used his scythe instead.
He nods, gently hoisting Glitch up and walking towards the house, waving the other to follow. He set Glitch on his little dog bed in the living room before walking to the bathroom, washing his hands and grabbing medical supplies.
Thatcher walked back towards the house, his scythe vanishing again. He stopped by the door, looking back at Nike. He thought that Halo wouldn’t want her in his home, and he huffed. He patted the side of one of Nike’s heads gently, the other two whining for attention as well. He gave the other two a pat before concentrating back on the middle head. He tilted to rest his forehead against Nike’s middle head, keeping his head rested for a moment. “Good girl, I know..”
"She can come in." Halo calls, setting the medical kit on the coffee table in the middle of the living room. He sets out the stuff he'll need before looking up, his wings fluttering slightly.
Thatcher gave Nike a slight smile at that, clicking his tongue for her to follow him inside. He ran a hand through his hair, cradling his wrist to his chest as he walked into the living room.
Halo pats the seat next to him, smiling softly. "Mind sitting down?" he asks, chuckling a little before placing the rag in the bowl of warm water and wringing it out.
Thatcher nodded his head, shifting a bit so he could sit down on the couch. He held out his wrist, blood still seeping from the deep gash. He chewed softly on his lower lip, Nike sitting next to the couch.