Work Text:
Seesor squirmed.
“Hold still,” Nentanuk ordered, before running her hand down his back, rubbing in a paste that smelled worse than fermenting fruit. “I am almost done.”
That didn’t exactly mean much, when even after she finished Seesor would still be stuck with the lingering paste as it dried. She’d needed to put it all over, on his face and arms and chest and shoulders - each reddened spot where his skin reacted poorly to being out in Parunt’s direct light for so long.
Seesor hadn’t realized light could burn like fire.
Sitting on the ground next to them, Krun rumbled a question, his deep voice something of a comfort. Nentanuk replied in the same language, the Arriv common tongue Seesor was slowly picking up bits and pieces of. He recognized his shortened name, and ‘time’, and a word that meant either ‘new’ or ‘young’ depending on context. Probably young, in this case, since they seemed to be talking about him.
When Nentanuk finished speaking and dipped her clawed fingers back in the paste jar for another round, Seesor couldn’t help but ask, “What did he say?”
A snort. “Your self-appointed defender wanted to know how long you would need to ‘endure’ my healing salve - as if it isn’t meant for far more serious wounds than this...” She continued to grumble under her breath, switching into yet another language he didn’t know. And not one Krun knew either, if the bemused look on the orc’s face was anything to go by.
He saw Seesor looking at him, and winked. That made the faun giggle, just a little.
“There!” Nentanuk announced, smoothing down a final daub of paste. “Finished. Do not go near the river until it all dries, understand?”
Seesor nodded, immediately hopping down off the log. Krun unfolded from his cross-legged position and rose, and the two of them walked away towards the campfire. Crant had disappeared earlier to do some hunting with the elf twins; that left the dwarf and goblin pair, Teresa and Mentras, arguing yet again. Or, rather, Mentras acted as if they were arguing. Teresa just sat and grinned at him, occasionally saying something that set her friend off again every time he started to calm down.
Krun hummed, pausing. And then gently tapped the top of Seesor’s head, in between his small horns, and nodded towards the nearest copse of trees. That seemed a much better place to wait, rather than listening to an argument he couldn’t understand.
Seesor skipped on ahead, trying to ignore the smell and sensation of the paste still coating his upper body. Unpleasant, but... definitely less awful than waking up that morning and crying out, startling everyone else, his skin reddened and painful with no understanding of why. Krun had tried to hold him, but one touch made the burning even worse. It took Nentanuk’s intervention for him to calm down, enough to listen to her explanation of Parunt’s rays and what they could do to skin used to less exposure.
You’ve lived hidden within Chathryn’s forest your whole life, she pointed out. And mostly traveled under cover of darkness since leaving. Just as well you haven’t experienced this before now, I suppose, since I’m here to help set it right.
Then she hauled Seesor off to a spot where he could sit high enough she wouldn’t need to constantly bend down, and the jar of awful paste appeared out of her sleeve. Ick.
Entering the small copse, the faun let out a relieved sigh, shade and shadow slipping over him like a welcoming embrace. Trees meant shelter, meant safety, places to hide and rest and eat. Seesor knew he needed to enjoy their comfort while he still could; the woodlands were becoming thinner and sparser as the land turned rocky. Soon enough their group would cross one final river and enter a place called ‘the Broken Crags’, a region full of cracked hills and shattered stone, barely a single tree to be seen.
With that thought in mind, Seesor looked up at the leaves overhead.
When Crant came looking for them later, to announce the group would be moving on, Seesor bounced and twirled to show off his new hooded half-cloak, woven from leafy vines and thick enough to protect his skin from any further burning. She laughed, and ruffled his hair, while Krun looked on with a smile.