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“Need a lift?”
A gloved hand appears in Lukas’s field of vision. The knight glances up at it before nodding to himself and yanking his lance out of a nearby corpse, splattering blood over the freshly fallen snow. Finn takes the weapon from him and holsters it alongside his own before offering his hand again. Lukas grabs it, thankful that his inexperience with mounting horses covers the way that his legs shake.
The adrenaline of the fight is wearing off now, and with the calm comes pain. One of them must have jabbed him in the ribs… the cold air nips at the open wound and makes his blood feel like ice as it pumps through his veins. He takes a deep breath as he finally settles in the saddle in front of Finn, teeth grit and nerves aching. They didn’t have time to stop for healing now.
“I’ll take us up to the front,” Finn says, as calm as ever.
Lukas draws his heavy cloak further around his body, investigating the injury with the tips of his fingers. He bites his tongue as a sharp pain spikes in between his ribs at the light touch- thank the gods Finn couldn’t see his face at this angle. He resolves to put pressure on it and hope for the best- perhaps someone on the front lines could spare a vulnerary… though such medicine seemed to be rather rare in Askr…
He lurches forward as the horse stops- their destination nearly upon them. Wheezing slightly, he slides off the saddle with a white-knuckled grip on his lance. Maybe it was more than just a simple cut-
“Wait a moment,” Finn starts behind him, voice unsure. Lukas turns back towards him, wrapping his cloak tighter around his body for good measure. “Are you sure you’re alright?”
Lukas gives a tepid smile in return. “Of course. Come along now… there’s no time to waste. Our allies are counting on us.”
“Wait…” Finn still sounds unsure, and Lukas notices that he’s no longer looking at him, rather, he’s looking in front of him, at the space on the saddle that Lukas had previously occupied. “You’ve left a lot of blood behind…”
A large red smear could be seen, even from Lukas’s low vantage point on the ground. He idly wonders whether the blood flecks on Finn’s tunic are from him as well. “Nothing to worry about, I assure you… Just a little scratch.”
The other knight levels his gaze at him, unconvinced and unimpressed. “Your glove…”
Lukas looks at his hand, only to gawk mentally at its new color- a deep, muddy brown- the fabric almost completely soaked through. It leaves a stain behind as he readjusts his hold on his lance; a handprint shaped mark pressed into the wood like a stamp.
The cold has a harsh grip on him now, and he isn’t sure whether his shivering is a result of the weather or his weakness… He leans on the lance a little more. Just for a bit of support.
“After battle, I’ll be sure to see a healer,” he offers.
Finn glares at him, disappointed. It’s an expression he’s long since perfected. “Yes. You will. For now, stay back.”
Lukas opens his mouth to argue, but his words die on his tongue as Finn’s horse rears up and charges into battle, leaving Lukas far from the action. The knight sighs before wincing as another flash hits his ribs. The spilled blood is starting to freeze over, coating the area in an uncomfortably cold sensation. His arm begins to feel numb. Stars dance in his vision whenever he moves his head to look around.
He sighs, looking around for a spot to take cover under.
Perhaps, just this time, it was better that he stay behind.