[It is a rare instance, because Garrett will never rely on Kol to save him. He relies on no one but himself, and that habit won't change, even if the other saves his life. So there is no regret or anger at choosing this now, as he knows it won't happen again.
But when Kol shoves his bleeding hand towards the thief, he pauses for a second, uncertain as to this being the way he wants to survive. And then he feels the wave of tiredness push itself on him again, and all that hesitation goes out the window. Weakly, he brings Kol's hand to his mouth, and does as he says. The taste of blood against his tongue isn't uncommon, at least in his younger years, but this is not exactly normal by any standards. Had he not been reduced to where he is now, his pride probably would have pushed through and made him refuse it.
As it stands, he knows this isn't a chance that will come again, so he takes it. He swallows, copper going down his throat, and then there's a blink before he even realizes what's happening.
The wound on his leg is healing. Physically healing itself, like the fibers and threads of a tapestry weaving itself back together after being torn apart. The hole he has in his shoulder is almost gone, as if he'd never been struck, and the one in his back? He can feel it push out the arrow tip lodged in there as if it was simply a flicker of annoyance. Garret can breathe again. He can breathe. Without being tired, without losing energy, it's as if he had never come across that struggle at all. Had never bled out in the streets like an idiot.
His head snaps back up to the other at that, a mixture of confusion and thanks and uncertainty all in one very clear in his eyes. Nothing like this exists here. Not even the Primal can do something this incredible. The thief keeps his mouth shut on asking, moving his limbs for the first time since collapsing there, and stands, not entirely sure what he should do. But the way his eyes flicker all around him, especially how his right eye glows and then recedes, says enough for him in the silence.
no subject
But when Kol shoves his bleeding hand towards the thief, he pauses for a second, uncertain as to this being the way he wants to survive. And then he feels the wave of tiredness push itself on him again, and all that hesitation goes out the window. Weakly, he brings Kol's hand to his mouth, and does as he says. The taste of blood against his tongue isn't uncommon, at least in his younger years, but this is not exactly normal by any standards. Had he not been reduced to where he is now, his pride probably would have pushed through and made him refuse it.
As it stands, he knows this isn't a chance that will come again, so he takes it. He swallows, copper going down his throat, and then there's a blink before he even realizes what's happening.
The wound on his leg is healing. Physically healing itself, like the fibers and threads of a tapestry weaving itself back together after being torn apart. The hole he has in his shoulder is almost gone, as if he'd never been struck, and the one in his back? He can feel it push out the arrow tip lodged in there as if it was simply a flicker of annoyance. Garret can breathe again. He can breathe. Without being tired, without losing energy, it's as if he had never come across that struggle at all. Had never bled out in the streets like an idiot.
His head snaps back up to the other at that, a mixture of confusion and thanks and uncertainty all in one very clear in his eyes. Nothing like this exists here. Not even the Primal can do something this incredible. The thief keeps his mouth shut on asking, moving his limbs for the first time since collapsing there, and stands, not entirely sure what he should do. But the way his eyes flicker all around him, especially how his right eye glows and then recedes, says enough for him in the silence.
What the fuck was that, Kol.]