Chapter Text
TW: blood and slight gore
Scar's POV
I hadn't expected to find anyone by the river. I mean, the world was ending. It's quite unexpected to find the body of a person who wasn't an undead. But then again, even finding an undead washed up at the river was rare. I certainly didn't expect to find a small winged man. I, Scar GoodTimes, had been living alone for months. I was just about to go fishing when I found him.
The man was... very short. He had macaw wings, and sandy brown hair.
I dropped my fishing rod and speedily walked over, unsure if the small man was dead. As I walked, I glanced around, making sure no undead were lurking. They were always lurking, technically. But I was just making sure that none were in sight. I crouched down next to the man, and put a hand to his neck. He was wet and cold. My hopes fell, when suddenly I felt a small beat of the heart. I kept my hand there, waiting to see if it happened again. As I sat there, the heartbeat came again, then again a solid 5 seconds later.
It probably wasn't healthy to have a heartbeat that slow. It took me a second to see the dark red bloodstains. I let out a sharp gasp. Dried blood matted the back of his head, and it was stuck in a drip down his face. Blood also dripped from his nose. All the blood was crusted and dry, the color a dark red brown. His cream colored long sleeve had tears across it, and his pants legs were torn, one side up to the knee, the other to the shin. He didn't look conscious.
I lifted him up, and put a hand at his back, and one under his knees. His macaw wings hung limply, and his head fell back. Faint bruises dotted his exposed collar bone and wrists. I peered down at the very light avian in my hands. I could feel every rib, every vertebrae, every joint. This guy's like... unhealthily skinny... I thought, mind spinning. What could have happened to this small man? Was he infected? Why was he in the river? Where did the blood come from? Why did he have bruises?
I carried the man's body back towards my hut, fishing rod forgotten. I pushed open the wooden door and made for the bathroom. I gently placed the man on his back on the cool tile floor. Sunlight poured in through the small window above the shower. From the closet next to the bathroom, I brought a shit load of bandages, gauze, and disinfectant. I sat down next to him, my scarred hands tearing a sheet of gauze away from the roll. I poured some disinfectant onto the piece. I looked at the avian's head, searching for the source of the wound.
As soon as I found it, I looked away so quickly. I almost gagged. The wound was not pretty. Very, very not pretty. I tasted vomit in my mouth. Someone had used a weapon on this poor man. I looked back. After further inspection, I discovered what the cause was, what weapon was used. The man didn't look more then 25, and someone had already tried to murder him. The weapon used was something that would deal a great amount of damage to undead, and it could easily kill a human.
Whoever had done this was evil. This poor avian could have lasting damage, and had a high chance of dying. I inhaled sharply and wiped the wound with the disinfectant. The man's eyebrows creased in pain. Poor guy... I wiped the wound again, dried blood coming off on the gauze.
After I'd disinfected the wound, I grabbed the roll of bandages, and started wrapping his head. My hands were shaking, and were speckled with dried blood. I sat the avian up and removed his shirt, checking for other injuries. I didn't realize that was weird, to take a strangers shirt off while they were unconscious, for a second. I picked the shirtless avian up, and carried him to my bed, which was also the only bed, and I wasn't putting an injured man on the couch. I slipped him under the blankets, and covered him up to his shoulders with the warm red blanket.
I grabbed a new blanket from the top shelf of the closet, and walked to the couch, covering it with the gray blanket. I moved back to the bathroom and grabbed the shirt. I washed it in the sink and then walked out to the small porch, where I hung it up on the laundry cable.
As I walked back inside, I noticed the stranger had shifted onto his other side, his back now facing away from the wall. Orange light seeped through the curtains. It was still smoky from the fire, apparently. It was almost sunset, aswell. I traipsed toward the kitchen, ready to make dinner, when Jellie leapt from a cabinet and landed on my shoulder with a soft thud, her tiny claws digging into my shirt.
I laughed quietly, not wanting to wake the stranger. I hope he wakes up soon... I thought, petting Jellie behind the ears and taking her off of my shoulder. I placed her on the counter, grabbed my apron, then picked her up and slipped her into the large center pocket of the apron. She started purring almost immediately, and I rubbed her ears again. I grabbed a pan from the oven, and placed it on the stove.
I turned the heat on, setting the flame to medium. I went to the fridge, and pulled out some mushrooms, which I had peeled earlier, and ground beef, which had been defrosting since the night before. I grabbed an assortment of seasonings, and took them back over to the counter surrounding the stove. I placed the cold ground beef onto the pan, and grabbed a spoon.
After cooking it till it was a brown color and seasoning it, I put the mushrooms in and started mixing. I watched as the mushrooms darkened. Soon the meal would be ready. While cooking the ground beef, I had also started a pot of rice, which would be done in a few minutes. I brought out a bowl and reached for a second one, before pausing. Would the stranger be well enough to eat? Let alone wake up? I stuck with my single bowl, and grabbed a fork. I opened a can of tuna for Jellie, and placed it on the ground near her water bowl. The stove beeped as the rice finished. I reached over and turned the heat off, before mixing the steaming rice. I served myself a spoonful or two of rice, then I put the ground beef and mushrooms on top.
I scurried over to the small dining table, and placed my bowl and fork down. I grabbed a napkin and sat down. Jellie lapped at her tuna, which was by now already half finished. I glanced at the stranger again. He was really, really short. Would he even reach my shoulder in height? I wondered. But then again I am pretty tall... I forced myself to look away.
I took a bite of my creation, and was proud I didn't over cook the ground beef this time.