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It’s been days since they’d all awoken. Surrounded by the bold, sweet aroma of roses that brushed against their cheeks. Rousing them from their eternal slumber. But most importantly, they were surrounded by each other. The relief was palpable in the air enclosing them. The sights that played behind their eyes like the thick thorns prickling at their skin that brought them back fully to the waking world, chasing them away from the dark, Aware and alive. Some could perhaps still feel the burning of flames or the wretched claws ripping through flesh and bones indiscriminately. Blood flinging through the air like a song, creating a violent painting against the vibrant grass.
The Jabberwock.
Destiny would not be crueller. Her delicate hands shaping the violence that befell them. Violence in the form of snapping jaws and hideous, bulbous eyes. The horror of it still playing behind your eyes, despite the… eternity that played on after your death. You were hardly sure what was worse. Death or the madness of nothing that clutched your soul, proceeding far beyond any knowable time or existence. It was knowing you were nothing and still existing. A part of it. An oil slick abyss.
The sound of a pan clattering against stone snapped harshly against your ears. You winced as it lashed against your senses like a whip. Tearing at your frayed nerves more than they’d already had been. You knocked it over as you moved to wash a dish in the riverbed. Mind attempting to flee as the memories rose to the surface without regard of what you wanted. You could feel it. That tug against your head as you feel your senses begin to dull. The numbness. No. You could fight it. Not again-
CRASH.
You gasped as something sharp pierced your calf. Flashes played against your vision as you shook. Trying to breath. Trying to stop the visions that invaded your mind. Panic. It was the Jaberwock again. It’s piercing cry echoing around you. Can’t breath. You were choking on your blood again-
Cold. Bitter, white burning cold against your skin. The shock ripping your mind back to the surface. Your bloody leg shaking in the water as red flew down stream, carrying it away.
“…it’s okay, love. You’re here. You’re going to be okay.” Said a soft voice, pullling you out of the water with hands just as tender. He laid you down, Gricko, and took a look at your injured leg. It wasn’t too bad, hadn’t hit an artery.
Looking up, you realized the plate had broken and, while not paying attention due to your mental state, somehow managed to cut yourself on it. The sounds of the forest slowly set in again around you. Your hand shaky as you ran them through your sweaty hair and was quickly welcomed by a beak prodding against one. Insistent on comforting you. Hootsie. Yes, she was okay, you thought as your trembling hand stroked her feathered head. Destiny can be cruel, but she can sweeten things in her own way. That same relief that choked you up when you first awoken amongst the roses came rushing back. But this time the tears falling from your eyes were of both relief and pain as Gricko finished tending to you leg.
Looking down, he had bandaged with what looks like clean wraps and bananyas to help mend the wound. It wasn’t too deep but that wouldn’t stop your boyfriend from ensuring your comfort and safety. He stood up, satisfied by his work, and walked over to you. Arms outstretched but not acting. Asking and waiting to see if that’s what you required at the moment. You were eager to accept.
Gricko ran a hand down your back, that nurturing nature that he carried for Hootsie coming out to reassure you. Your breaths heavy and trembling. You didn’t even know that you were crying, only noticing that when he wiped the tears from your eyes. The back of his thumb gently running along your cheek.
“Deep breaths. You’re doing wonderfully, love.” He assured, pressing his water skin into your hands. Hand still caressing your back.
In between deep breathes you took a drink from the water skin. It hit your core like water to hot coals. Grounding you as the adrenaline began to fade, leaving you weary and yearning to go a rest for hours. But the dishes still needed to be clean.
You sat up. Oh, shit the dishes.
There was the broken plate resting by the river bed, along with the other pots and pans that still needed to be cleaned. You got up, thinking about how Kremy will ‘Would You Kindly?’ you back into the river if you came back with dirty dishes, but was stopped by a soft protest and hoot.
“Don’t even think about it, love, Hootsie and I will take care of it. Isn’t that right, my precious sweetie?” He asked his furry, feathered daughter. The owlbear cub chirped happily and trotted after her father. Although Hootsie couldn’t do much for cleaning, she was eager to dance for you. Doing the jig she’s known for and her best to cheer you up. It was hard to resist the urge to smile. Gricko couldn’t, cooing in delight as he scrubbed a stubborn pan.
Eventually, the pain in your leg subsiding thanks to the bananyas, Gricko and Hootsie finished washing and placed them in the former’s hat of holding for easy of travel. With Gricko’s help it wasn’t too long before you got back to a nice campfire and the sounds of your friends bickering. At least for now, the shadows that followed remained where they belong.