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Avid stumbles through the forest eyes glassy with unshed tears as blood drips steadily out of the corners of his mouth, gushes out of the wound carved into his stomach. He whimpers as the stake jostles in his abdomen when he veers to the right, a desperate attempt to lose his hunters. Trees claw and scratch at his face, grasping at his hair, hi cheeks, his clothes, his soul. Hunter owns the woods, hunter owns him too. He can’t escape, he panics as his foot gets tangled in the roots and vines coating the floor, cloaking it in a blanket of obstacles. He hears ominous footsteps thumping through the woods, ever closer to his location. With a last desperate tug he yanks his leg free continuing to stumble towards the castle looming in the distance. His legs cave in just as he reaches the door sending him careening towards the floor, a thump echoing out as he collides with the ground. The sound like thunder. He tenses at the sound of distant footsteps, the noise barely audible, almost indistinguishable from the rain still pouring down outside, pounding against the grass. He hisses as the movement disturbs the stake still nestled amongst his ribs, embedded into the tight space between his lungs. He sighs as he sees the teal head of hair come into view… Scott.
“I’m in pain”he mumbles deliriously. Scott smirks laughing halfheartedly ”physical or emotional?” He jokes as he walks the the door not yet realising the severity of the situation, his sire stops dead (haha dead get it?) upon seeing the scene before him. “Thats….a lot of blood…” he mumbles concern leaking into his words, painting them a bright ugly shade of red as alarm bells blare in his mind. Avid chuckles weakly, body slowly growing limp “yeah…pain…” and with that he goes still. Body falling fully to the floor, limbs splayed about him as blood forms a puddle, that from his head forming a sort of ironic halo. Blood pools and for a second Scott stands there before common sense takes over, he darts forwards, quicker than ever before over to the raven haired man tugging the stake out and pushing his fabric against the wound, to think he’d weck his cloak for the ex-vampire hunter, staunching the blood flow.