Michael's laugh turned to a loud giggled snickering as he lightly shook his head. After a few more moments passed, the young man then stood up on his left elbow as he could hear his door opening.

The creaking door parted, showing more of the outside world as Brekda came into view, wide eyed, his sight looked in with the young man's eyes. "Yer awake... Were you... laughin'? Heard ye laugh before so I knew what the sound was, but... was that it?" The Tuskir man asked surprised.

Michael check around his neck for the necklaces that allowed him to speak, forgetting that if he could understand them, it meant he was wearing them. At this point it was more of a reflex instead of a conscious choice. "Yes. Hah... Ow- I was. Although doing so makes my body hurt, I couldn't help myself, but laugh. I was... glad."

Brekda let out a snort as he took a moment to process that information, slowly entering in the process. "That's kind of terrifyin' ya kno'?"

Michael gave back a smaller smile, nodding in acknowledgement, understanding how that could be seen. "I... can see why you'd say that, but it is hard not to laugh when one's glad to be alive."

The Tuskir snorted a huff as a sort of short chuckle. "Well. I'll be lettin' the others know you woke up. Ye been sleepin' fer two days straight." Brekda said after a short pause.

Before he could make his leave, Michael cleared his throat wanting to get his attention. "Before you do. Can you catch me up on what happened? Most of my memory is a blur. I can't even recall the fight with that messy creature too well. Is everyone alright? What of the prisoners? Anyone else we captured or were they all dead?"

Brekda paused as he then seated himself on one of the two chairs that were inside this place. "Most o' the Hay-yen were dead or sucked up when that behemoth was made, that's me understandin' on the matter at least. We did find two still alive. One o' them was larger, but it seems like she clawed out both of her eyes and was passed out, the other, he seemed to 'ave taken a blo' to the head or at least had hit his when fallin'. We pached 'em up and put them with the others for de time bein'. The troublesome one we got... whatever her name was... she tried all night to escape, but she couldn't do much with those nubbed claws. Everyone else is alive..." That's when Brekda paused as he looked at Michael.

The young man's gaze bore into the wooden floor as he bit his lip. "Everyone except Spek..." He continued choking up.

Brekda nodded solemnly. "Aye... at first we looked for 'im, but once Urla had a spell to rest after tendin' to yer wounds, she told us what happened... ye tried your best and ye might think it not bein' enough, but... tis maybe better than havin' to see Spek rottin' dead in a pool o' blood. Urla said da tree is much alive like any other so... Spek is alive... in a way." The tuskir man added, trying to bring some sort of comfort with his words.

Michael laid back down a moment, taking in a big breath of air as he used his left hand to wipe his slightly teary eyes. "I wish to agree with you and maybe eventually I will, but right now... I can't help it, but to blame myself."

"Ye shouldn', if ye keep doin' it... guilt will eat ye up on the inside 'til yer hollo'." Brekda added as he shook his head, a glint in his eyes confirming that he had wrestled with such feelings in his past. He huffed as he leaned back in the chair. "Ya kno'. The ol' man was right and I bet if he heard me... I wouldn' hear da end of it or his annoyin' laughing in me ear... I saw part o' yer fight from up in de tower. Ye fought like a monster, hells in me mind, maybe I won't ever not see ya like one, but... I am certain you ar'n't a bad one."

Michael nodded as he accepted Brekda's opinion, being unsure on how to feel about it. "Monster or not, I want some fresh air. I am done pickling in my own sweat."

As Michael tossed the covers off of himself he noticed his bandaged up legs, the semi bloody rags going to just a finger tip's worth of distance, under the knee. The limbs looked straight if not with a hint of crookedness, hidden, but still visible, if you stared too long, still clearly an effort had been made, as Michael's legs even had splints tied to them.

Brekda shot to his feet with a squeal. "Ye canne do that! Jus' lay back down."

"I figured they'd still be hurt. Fuck... didn't think I was this bad off..." Michael said with a wince as he accidentally flexed some muscles in his legs, which made pain shoot up to his knees. "Sigh... I am guessing wheelchairs are not a thing here, right?"

Brekda paused his worry a moment as he found himself suddenly pondering that. "I can see how something like that would be useful... but I'd not seen before a thing like that. A wheeled chair seems tha be useful for this sorta thing."

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"Agh-... crutches? Do you have crutches?" Michael said while sucking on his teeth in frustration.

"Ya mean a cane? Or a walkin' stick fer support?" The older Tuskir inquired.

"Yeah... but based on your answer, you most likely have the simple types or simply a plain walking stick... sigh... guess I just figured out more important stuff we could make and sell." The young man groaned as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

Brekda huffed calming down, glad he didn't have to convince the hooman to not leave his bed. "Alright. I'll go tell the others ya woke and have some food brought to ya." The Tuskir man said as he then left out the door.

It didn't take a long time for sounds of movement to start becoming louder, muffled and approaching hastly. The door didn't burst open, but it did decently violently swing, making the creaking hinges about one octave more unbearable.

Through the open entrance Zurra barreled in, her large form now wearing a pair of simple leather sandals and some white-khaki cotton pants. The large smith woman's right hand, abdomen and chest was bound in bandages that reeked of medicinal herbs. She huffed and puffed as her eyes met Michael's gaze. "Boi..." She said warmly, almost choking up.

Despite her kind tone her approach was rather agressive. "How can ye be smart like a scholar, yet as dum' as rock at da same time?" She said with an exasperated squeal as she came up to Michael's bedside. A clear anger boiling from deep within her.

This hidden fury, didn't boil over though. While Michael braced himself to be berated for his approach on the situation, Zurra simply looked down at him. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean for it to go that way... I wasn't intending to sacrifice myself to buy time, at least not intentionally. I was running out of options an-..."

He didn't get to finish his sentence as Zurra wrapped her arms around his upper body, pulling him close against herself. "Ya stubborn, foolish boi. Ye almost made an ol' sow's heart leave her. Ye almost left me without an apprentice." The old Tuskir woman said as clear huff sniffles left her as she choked on her words. A few tears spilled from her eyes, akin to a bit of water trickling from a flooded river which could barely be contained by an old dam. She held onto him like a mother would hold onto a child she nearly lost. Zurra knew he wasn't her blood, but since he got here, him coming up with new things to make, taking an interest in smithing, showing both some form of fighting ability and some smarts, she just couldn't help, but imagine if her late son would have been like? Would he have done these things? Would he have been smarter? Stronger? To a certain degree, Michael's person somewhat aligned with her expectations, so a new connection took bud into her heart. It was selfish, to use this young man as a replacement for what was lost and hadn't gotten a chance to grow, at least she told herself so. Zurra didn't stop herself from having these feelings though, as they were a small pleasure for her mind to hold onto, to dull the pain of an old wound on her heart, that refused to close.

Michael froze a second as he got pulled against her bound up bosom, the warmth radiating against him, only now realizing how sore he was. As he listened to Zurra's quick paced heartbeat like a lullaby in his ear, he wrapped his left arm around her. Despite the left hand being wrapped up in bandages, up to the second knuckle of his digits, his finger tips could feel the softness of her fur, a sensation of comfort coming over him.

"She's right a bit. I-... -mouthy wet air slurping noises- ... woulda' been pretty upset havin' our newest clan member die on us." A hyponasal voice said from the door, familiar, yet the weird way the words rang out, made it too alien for comfort.

Michael leaned to the side while hugging Zurra, looking over to see Runhar. His head was wrapped in bandages, his snout having a splint of its own to hold it as straight as possible. The poor guard captain even had some sort of cotton balls stuffed in his nostrils, that looked slightly bloody, turning the young Tuskir into a literal mouth breather. He held a hot bowl of food, which he sat down on the chair next to Michael's bed. The bowl was filled up with a soup that nearly bordered on stew, due to the thickness, yet the smell would remind Michael of his stomach protesting, mainly due to not eating for nearly two or three days.

Before he could even properly reach for it, Zurra took the bowl and she seated herself, taking a spoonful of the food and holding it up towards Michael. A silent exchange of glances started to be made, one similar to a mother hellbent to take care of their sick adult child while the latter's eyes begged to be left to deal with his problems himself, until eventually relenting.

Michael sighed as he lost this duel of eye contact as he took a mouthful of food from Zurra. "Last thing we need is ye to spill hot food over yourself. Took us long enough tha put ye back in one piece." The older Tuskir said as she huffed content with the situation.

"So. Now I am supposedly part of the clan?" Michael asked after swallowing the food, being given another spoonful immediately after. His looked at Runhar who was leaned against the door's frame.

"Aye. Once we are better on our feet we'll have a ceremony and all. Hopefully after you can stand on your own two legs. Wouldn't want ya to vurm your way through the ceremony." He said with a snorted huff akin to a chuckle.

"Hah! That'd be a show." He said as he held onto his nose, mimicking Runhar's voice somewhat, the captain acknowledging the remark with a squealed scoff and chuckle.

"Alright. Let's take it easy and get ourselves back on our feet. Gharna and the others should arrive any day now as well. The man power will help things along easier." The captain said with a nod. "Zurra. You want to keep watch over Michael next?"

"Aye. Last thing I need is him getting a 'smart' idea while unsupervised. Until yer in tip top shape i'll be on yer head like yer a new born lil' swine." She said with a snort that made Michael's expression cringe with embarrasment.

"Noted..." he groaned with his mouth full of food.

Runhar took his leave to tend to other businesses in the village while Zurra for now kept watch over Michael. The day seemed to shape up nicely, but only the Gods know what awaits them.