Dust to Dust: Man 13
Loss
In a few swift wrestling motions punctuated by the cracking of ice, the frozen creature was dismantled from where it was latched onto Bryn's back. Travis carefully studied her, looking for any signs of life, of hope.
And found it.
“Tin man, I need you to-” began the ranger, but stopped himself when he saw that the golem was already stepping forward, air warping slightly around his scorching hot arms. After Travis gauged the heat coming off of Pile, his face fell. “I need to you step back. Go get the pot we boiled water in.”
The golem immediately did an about face and walked as fast as he could, having to find areas with packed powder or dirt lest he fall through the snow. By the time he grabbed the still hot steamer and turned back around, Travis had already laid Bryn down on a bed of pelts and was closely examining her seemingly lifeless form. The crunch of snow from the golem's heavy steps alerted the ranger to his return.
“Gather snow into the pot until it stops steaming, we need it warm, not hot. We can't risk putting her into any more shock than she's in now. I think-” Travis stopped himself and shook his head. “I know that she's worked with Freezing for years, she has to have some tolerance towards it. We just need to warm her up and she'll be okay. I know it.” Having convinced himself, he reached out for the pot, even as his bloodshot eyes betrayed his true fears.
As Pile handed the cooler pot of water to him, Travis simply grabbed a corner of it and began pouring it over the prone Bryn. The frost laden blue robes softened in the warm water, and the frigid layer of ice began to melt away from her fair skin. The she-wolf gave the mage's face a tender lick, removing the crystals from her delicate eyebrows and freeing her breathing passages. Travis leaned down and put his hands to Bryn's face, focusing intently to try and pickup on any breathing.
“Faint, but she's there,” sighed a relieved ranger. “Could use some help, girl.”
Heeding the call of her companion, the she-wolf raised up, lifting her head high above her towering frame in a regal pose. The surrounding trees, the snow-capped pines, leaned in and listened. The she-wolf's eyes reflected her memories; the vibrant forest she was born to rule, and the wasteland it had become. A soft howl pierced the morning haze as she asked the forest for assistance. Assistance for her, for a monarch of a now dead land. Nature does not dally nor debate, and the trees heeded her call. Lower limbs withered and bark curled as life itself was sent to the she-wolf. The queen kept none of it, and relayed it to the thawed mage that hung between life and death.
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Bryn's breath quickened and cheeks became rosy as she was gifted pure vitality. Travis relaxed as the situation finally came under control. He internally debated between removing her soaked clothes and drying her off or wrapping her up in a bundle of pelts so she could rest in peace. Deciding that it'd be foolish to leave her in wet clothes that would soon bring frostbite, Travis began removing Bryn's azure robe, exposing her right arm first.
It was blue.
The ranger's eyes shot wide open, his heart once again beating a thousand times a minute.
“Fucking fuck, it has to be-” his hands quivered as he reached down to his belt and drew a gleaming dagger. “It has to be removed.” The ranger wasted no time as he shoved the mage's robes off of her frostbitten arm and placed his knife just below the shoulder, where the skin once again regained a healthy color. He pressed down, but the knife wobbled in his weak grip. He braced himself again, clenching his teeth and putting his body weight onto his hand only to slip again. Tears now streaming down his face, sobs began to rack Travis' frame as he succumbed to the repeated stresses of the situation.
“Her blood-” he choked out between sobs, “-poison.” “We gotta-” another sob stopped his words, so he simply mimed a sawing motion near the shoulder joint. A gentle pair of jaws closed around his uncertain hand, and moved it towards the motionless golem.
Pile realized the intent of the she-wolf, and reached down to take the blade. The dagger slipped from the ranger's hand but Pile was already there to catch it, reassuring Travis that Bryn was in steady hands.
Pile studied the blade. He used to deal with bone quite a bit in the days after his birth. He remembered what it took to break it, to cut it. A pulse of white hot energy from his core flowed into the blade, melding it into a more suitable shape. Now a bit longer and with small serrations, the blade was properly suitable for bone.
The golem lowered the saw to her arm and got to work.
Hours later, a ruined arm was buried in a shallow grave, and the party was resting at last. The she-wolf was curled into a large crescent, making a warm bed for Travis and Bryn to curl inside. Travis was passed out, the exhaustion of the fight and stress of the medical procedure taking their toll on his psyche. Bryn was curled into his arms, looking peaceful in her slumber. The only thing wrong with the picture was the bloody stump where her right arm used to be. A heated knife served as a suitable cauterization method, and the she-wolf had injected life energy into the stump to stop most of the bleeding.
Pile stared down at them from a few feet away, the only one awake. He had befriended a human, been tricked and trapped by humans, and thoroughly beaten by them in combat. This was his first time seeing them vulnerable, intimate. He looked down at this own right arm, testing out its motion. After a quick pulse through his silver veins to test the responsiveness, he popped his shoulder's joint open and took the arm off. The golem waved the arm idly in the air, seemingly playing with it. Pile then reattached the arm at the joint and tested the responsiveness once more.
No loss in function.
They are so fragile.