(no subject)

[old-lizard.livejournal.com]

[Following this]

Chinthliss rouses, if only enough to register that someone must have come in earlier. The
child he'd brought with him was asleep, and there were fresh bandages on the incisions his "rival" had made on the boy's skin. The fractured arm had been immobilized, half-thawed ice packs still
at the spot.
He's had worse wounds, and knows it. Doesn't change the fact that the pain's gnawing at him, and
he can't understand why it's so damnably cold in here when it wasn't earlier.

He sits up, ignoring the jabs of fresh agony that spike through his bad arm and side.
Move, you old fool. Now's not the time to let yourself pass out again...

He grips the edge of the cot, hard. Up, leaning more than standing, he stumbles toward the door that leads out of the Infirmary. Instinct's driving him, and it's in the direction that gets him out of being hemmed in by four walls and particularly a roof.

He covers the toddler with a blanket before he starts moving again.