Chapter Text
He jolted awake, the air knocked violently from his lungs as his body collided with the ground.
Head swimming like a whirlpool, he tried to see past the blur obscuring his vision. Beneath him was the potent smell of earth, his fingers digging into the coarse soil. How had he…?
He blinked rapidly, groaning as he attempted to lift his body from where it lay on the dirt floor, only to be winded once more as a fiery pain shot from his shoulder and coursed through his body. A small keen escaped his throat as he pulled a hand to the source of the throbbing pain. Waves of heat was rolling off his shoulder, hand trembling as it brushed across torn fabric and swollen flesh.
Oh…
Oh.
Right. The O’Driscolls.
A spluttering cough ricocheted from his chest, causing pain to flare as though he had been set on fire. He absently rolled further onto his back and wrapped a loose arm around his torso, hissing as he made contact with open cuts across this stomach. They really had done a number on him.
There was a snort right above his head, the air brushing the hair from his tacky forehead. He squinted up to see Flo touring over him, her snout investigating his face. She sniffed his cheek before giving him a slight nudge with her nose. Slowly – weakly – he lifted an arm up and placed a gentle hand on the space between her eyes.
“I’m alright, girl,” he slurred quietly, breathing laboured and pained between words. “Jus’… gimme a moment…”
She huffed again but stepped back, her gait restless as she waited for him to move. He swallowed, face scrunching as his shoulder pounded. It felt as though there was liquid steel in his veins, slowing down his movements until he would eventually become nothing more than a statue of memorial.
And suddenly, the idea that maybe… he wouldn’t make it this time. His head panged and pulsated with each throb from his shoulder and the wounds across his torso were hot and sticky. Though he had gotten out, his chances of surviving were slim to none.
A choked sound of despair wormed its way from his mouth. No… no. He had to return to camp… at the very least to let them know he tried… that he cared.
With whatever dregs of energy he had remaining, he pushed himself to sit upright, making embarrassing sounds of agony all the while. Even sitting upright had his vision spotty and his head fuzzy as though cotton balls were stuffed through his ears. He placed his hands on each side of himself and forced himself up, stumbling to gain balance on his feet. The second he was standing, it was like he had been tossed into a body of water, and all semblance of balance was gone.
His hands caught onto a sturdy edge as he tilted dangerously to the left, falling against something solid. He blinked blearily before recognising that he was leaning on Flo, who had promptly moved closer upon seeing him begin to fall.
Grinning weakly, he readjusted his grip on the saddle before using all his strength to pull himself up onto it. It had taken three times before he was able to successfully swing his leg over. Once he was sitting upon his horse, he allowed his eyes to close for a moment in hopes of stilling the spinning world around him.
Even without direction, Flo began to move forward, her pace steadily growing from a leisurely trot to a desperate sprint. Before he was able to notice himself teetering forward, his head laid itself against her neck, her soft mane tickling his nose as he curled himself around his core, his arm still wrapped across his stomach. “You’re a good girl,” he mumbled, distantly hearing her snort in response.
He had tried to stay awake. Really, he had. But the lull of unconsciousness was tempting like a sweet glass of cool lemonade on a hot summer’s day, and surely it wouldn’t hurt if he closed his eyes for a moment…
Just for a moment…