forum The Bound (One on One) (Closed).

Started August 13, 2018 by @Desvelarse pets

tune

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.

Halo gently takes the rag. He looks at Thatcher, "This is gonna sting a little." He says softly, beginning to clean the wound. His gaze is gentle, his hand that gripped Thatchers wrist soft and slightly calloused. He dabs away the blood, breathing gently and softly, as if cleaning wounds was a daily hobby for him. He puts the bloodied rag on the tray and grabs the rubbing alcohol, just to get any bacteria out of the way. He inspects the cut. "Not deep enough for stitches…" he mutters to himself.

Thatcher hissed sharply in pain when Halo first began to dab at the wound. When he made that noise, Nike gave a soft growl. He calmed down a bit after a moment, watching Halo work on his wrist. He liked the feeling of Halo’s gentle hands, and wondered if the rest of him felt that nice. He shook those thoughts out of his mind, looking over at Nike now instead.

"Sorry." Halo winces, looking up at Thatcher for a moment. "It's not deep enough for stitches." He says, looking back at the cut. "It's deep though. It's going to take a while to heal." He mutters, grabbing some ointment. He gently spreads it over the wound, humming softly under his breath. He wipes his hand with a clean rag and wraps the cut with a bandage. "There." he says softly, gently running his thumb over the end with tape. "We'll change it again tonight." He looks up and smiles at Thatcher.

“That’s good, and alright,” Thatcher said with a small nod. He wondered for a moment how Halo was so good at this sort of thing. But he then glanced at Halo’s wings, then over his body. Halo was so good at this because he had been hurt many times before. It angered him to think that an innocent boy like Halo could have suffered so much hurt.

Halo tilts his head, "Is everything alright? You look upset." He says softly, his eyes filled with worry and curiosity. I didn't hurt you, did I?" He asks softly, his hand gently releasing Thatchers wrist.

“No, no, I’m fine,” Thatcher answered, shaking his head a bit. He couldn’t be showing those sort of emotions. It would just give him away, and he didn’t want to let Halo know anything yet. He looked down at his wrist, feeling at it with his other hand.

Halo nods slowly, hesitating slightly. He glances back and sighs softly, looking around.

Thatcher leaned back against the couch, rubbing a hand over his eyes. He looked over to where Halo’s dog was laying, watching it closely for any movement. He wondered if it would even work on an animal, and he hoped so- for Halo’s sake.

Halo watches him look over at Glitch. He looks over as well, a small breath exiting his lips. He shakes his head and looks down. "I hope your blood doesn't go to waste." He says softly. "If I made you lose 100 years of your life for nothing…"

“If I did, then it should be fine,” Thatcher said. “Like I told you before, one hundred years isn’t much to me.” He looked away after a moment, but his attention was caught again when Nike began to growl.