He can't tell if a single word he's saying is getting into that fuzzy little head. The thing looks him in the eyes, and if anything seems- Annoyed? Sassy?
He wanted to shake some sense into it. But that would be inhumane and he'd feel like a fool. It probably just- Couldn't even understand and single word out of his mouth. he was probably wasting his time and this was a lost cause anyways-
It makes one of its small noises again and this time instead of using its face to touch his hand it pats it with its paw. Was. Was that supposed to be reassurance?
He paused, it. Well. He didn't know what to make of that. He wasn't sure if that was a genuine attempt at communication, or if he was just desperate.
Whatever, his mind was made up, he'd suffer the consequences.
He sees the smear of blood on her back and has to resist the urge to run his hand down his face. Great. Great! Just- great. Today was a fantastic day on which he definitely didn't feel like burning a forest down.
... crap and he was also going to need to wash up somehow. Sooner rather than later.
The fuzz beast lights up at being referred too as Kisa. He finds himself grinning, then laughing when her face almost seems to pout upon being called 'Fuzzy'. Ouch- that hurt his shoulder. He coughed slightly on the spit he choked on before gathering himself, shaking his head slightly, "What? Don't like Fuzzy? I think its cute. The girls would like it." Sometimes the range of supposedly 'cutesy' nicknames those kids could come up with stumped him. "Come to think of it, the girls would just like you in general..." If fuzz beast didn't have a home to return too, maybe he'd see about taking it back to Rhodes with him... There were plenty of people there who'd be more than willing to take care of a homeless beast. Probably.
It- or, Kisa, he supposes, looks dejected putting the badge away. He feels a bit bad, it'd looked pretty proud of itself before, obviously whatever was written on there mattered to it.
As he explains oripathy to Kisa, like a truly crazy person, talking to a beast like it somehow understood him... and yet. Its face shifts, and it seems to be listening, sitting down and looking at him intently, taking in every word. H-huh. This whole time it seems to have responded to his every word, his every action, with some level of understanding. It made no sense. In his experience, beasts had their own forms of communication and understanding, and of course they were living beings. But this was a different level of understanding.
As he finishes his explanation something feels... not better. His shoulder still hurts like all heck. But... lighter... Was that the first time he'd really talked to anybody about his oripathy? He didn't talk to the girls about it... Most of them had it as well, seemed like a poor choice of conversation for people who were all facing the probably inevitable end, sooner or later. And with the exception of Lena... they were all kids. It didn't feel right to just- talk about his own mortality out of nowhere. Some of them would get it... others thought... And Lena had seen enough in her time to understand. They both had. No words needed to be said there.
... Guess it really had been the first time in a long, long while. Mystified he slightly deflates under the weight of that realization, gaze zoning off a million miles away.
He jumps slightly when Kisa makes a noise, coming closer. Immediately he tenses up again, drawing in his legs closer, but- It'd been understanding so far... He doesn't move, waiting to see what it does.
It moves to his leg and pushes its head against his shin, and he flinches on instinct. His pants were actually clean of blood, so, it was fine. It turns its whole body to be flush with his leg, rubbing its face and side up to his knee, before turning its body around and repeating the action in the opposite direction with its other side. He can feel it. Its... vibrating? Making a noise. Its not very loud, even to his sarkaz ears.
Everything about it is. So, impossibly small. He is so large in comparison, and yet as Kisa looks up to stare him in the eyes he feels like, and maybe he's just losing it at this point, but- it felt like it was trying to reassure him. Say it was going to be okay. ((imma sob her charge ueueueue))
Then she darts off.
"H-hey!" He chokes out, moving to lung out for her. Only to choke on a cry of pain- His bloody, VERY blood shoulder reminding him that hey its still a problem, the moment he starts trying to move again.
Panting heavily he collapses back against the wall, clenching his jaw as hard as he can to try to regain a point of focus. Dang it. What was the fuzz beast thinking?! It was too small to- well. Okay. Maybe- not too small just- He didn't know how dangerous this place was and he didn't like the idea of it wandering off!
He cracks an eye open when he hears something creaking- oh. Oh it'd just- it was exploring the room. Oh, okay, alright that was. Fine. Fine. Ignoring the fact that even if he wanted to chase it down he probably couldn't now that he was being viscerally reminded as well that he was starting to experience symptoms of bloodloss.
Kisa comes back, he watches it drag a bundle of fabric behind itself, it looked like a blanket? Did it think he was cold?
It gets it close to the knee it'd just be rubbing against, before sitting expectantly in front of it, and pointing a paw at his injured shoulder, letting out another one of its noises.
Oh- it- Oh. H-huh.
So it did understand him? Or had some level of intelligent thought at least.
Or! He was delirious. That was also entirely a possibility.
He felt the blanket though and well, that was very real. And well, Kisa had the right idea. He was bleeding out. There was no arguing that. If he kept putting off doing something about it he was going to die.
And his corpse would probably poison Kisa. He grimaces.
He picks up the blanket and uses his right arm along with his fangs to start tearing strips.
Ideally, he would clean out the wound first. The metal that had gouged into his shoulder, as briefly as he'd looked at it, did not look good. Infection was a high possibility (an infected infected, hah...). But he wouldn't be alive to get infected, again, if he bled out first. He could do a patch job, keep the rest of the sheet, and see if he could find anything else to patch himself up with.
... he didn't have the normal supplies he would normally have on himself if he went on a solo op. Another thing upon the stack of crappy things that didn't make sense about waking up in this place. And he still hadn't seen any sign of any other Rhodes personnel. Something was very wrong, no matter how you looked at it.
He shook his head, focus. Immediate problems first. As much as this whole situation pissed him off, he could live to be pissed off about it later.
He had to consider whether or not to fish out his dagger and cut off the ruined, bloodied arm of his jacket, but ultimately decided it'd be simpler to just take it off like normal. He was quick about it, clenching his jaw against every pull and every muscle movement. Keeping his mind focused on the sensation of his tight jaw and the precision of his movements, if he focused on the pain he'd risk faltering and he couldn't risk that right now, he was the only thing he could rely on.
Well. He could reasonably guess Kisa would try to find help, but he wasn't going to send that fuzz beast into the depths of this unknown and now proven dangerous place to get him help for something he could reasonably handle himself.
Jacket off, he was done with the worst part. Until he had to clean it later at least. He picked up the first strip of unevenly torn cloth and began deftly using his right arm in combination with his mouth to wrap the white strips around his shoulder and arm. Anybody watching would note that he knew exactly what he was doing, as if he'd done this several times before, not being tripped up in the slightest by being down an arm or in pain. He made it look easy.
It was almost soothing, how methodical the work was, if not for the sharp pain in his arm it would've been enjoyable. Within minutes of starting he was done, eyes refocusing as best they could, blinking sweat out of his eyes.
...Not bad. Pretty good. He turned his arm over, making sure there were no gaps and that everything was well covered. He could see red already starting to show through closest to where the fang holes from the plant-beast were, but there wasn't much he could do about that. He mentally put 'find a thread and needle' on his priority list.
If he ran into any friendlies he'd have to warn them about the possible contagion issue.
He stared at his arm a bit longer... then slumped back against the wall. A wave of light-headedness deciding to hit him right that moment. He- he would get up in a second. He needed to steady himself...
Mans is not okay!! Physically or mentally!! (xD yay you saved me the trouble!)
He wanted to shake some sense into it. But that would be inhumane and he'd feel like a fool. It probably just- Couldn't even understand and single word out of his mouth. he was probably wasting his time and this was a lost cause anyways-
It makes one of its small noises again and this time instead of using its face to touch his hand it pats it with its paw. Was. Was that supposed to be reassurance?
He paused, it. Well. He didn't know what to make of that. He wasn't sure if that was a genuine attempt at communication, or if he was just desperate.
Whatever, his mind was made up, he'd suffer the consequences.
He sees the smear of blood on her back and has to resist the urge to run his hand down his face. Great. Great! Just- great. Today was a fantastic day on which he definitely didn't feel like burning a forest down.
... crap and he was also going to need to wash up somehow. Sooner rather than later.
The fuzz beast lights up at being referred too as Kisa. He finds himself grinning, then laughing when her face almost seems to pout upon being called 'Fuzzy'. Ouch- that hurt his shoulder. He coughed slightly on the spit he choked on before gathering himself, shaking his head slightly, "What? Don't like Fuzzy? I think its cute. The girls would like it." Sometimes the range of supposedly 'cutesy' nicknames those kids could come up with stumped him. "Come to think of it, the girls would just like you in general..." If fuzz beast didn't have a home to return too, maybe he'd see about taking it back to Rhodes with him... There were plenty of people there who'd be more than willing to take care of a homeless beast. Probably.
It- or, Kisa, he supposes, looks dejected putting the badge away. He feels a bit bad, it'd looked pretty proud of itself before, obviously whatever was written on there mattered to it.
As he explains oripathy to Kisa, like a truly crazy person, talking to a beast like it somehow understood him... and yet. Its face shifts, and it seems to be listening, sitting down and looking at him intently, taking in every word. H-huh. This whole time it seems to have responded to his every word, his every action, with some level of understanding. It made no sense. In his experience, beasts had their own forms of communication and understanding, and of course they were living beings. But this was a different level of understanding.
As he finishes his explanation something feels... not better. His shoulder still hurts like all heck. But... lighter... Was that the first time he'd really talked to anybody about his oripathy? He didn't talk to the girls about it... Most of them had it as well, seemed like a poor choice of conversation for people who were all facing the probably inevitable end, sooner or later. And with the exception of Lena... they were all kids. It didn't feel right to just- talk about his own mortality out of nowhere. Some of them would get it... others thought... And Lena had seen enough in her time to understand. They both had. No words needed to be said there.
... Guess it really had been the first time in a long, long while. Mystified he slightly deflates under the weight of that realization, gaze zoning off a million miles away.
He jumps slightly when Kisa makes a noise, coming closer. Immediately he tenses up again, drawing in his legs closer, but- It'd been understanding so far... He doesn't move, waiting to see what it does.
It moves to his leg and pushes its head against his shin, and he flinches on instinct. His pants were actually clean of blood, so, it was fine. It turns its whole body to be flush with his leg, rubbing its face and side up to his knee, before turning its body around and repeating the action in the opposite direction with its other side. He can feel it. Its... vibrating? Making a noise. Its not very loud, even to his sarkaz ears.
Everything about it is. So, impossibly small. He is so large in comparison, and yet as Kisa looks up to stare him in the eyes he feels like, and maybe he's just losing it at this point, but- it felt like it was trying to reassure him. Say it was going to be okay. ((imma sob her charge ueueueue))
Then she darts off.
"H-hey!" He chokes out, moving to lung out for her. Only to choke on a cry of pain- His bloody, VERY blood shoulder reminding him that hey its still a problem, the moment he starts trying to move again.
Panting heavily he collapses back against the wall, clenching his jaw as hard as he can to try to regain a point of focus. Dang it. What was the fuzz beast thinking?! It was too small to- well. Okay. Maybe- not too small just- He didn't know how dangerous this place was and he didn't like the idea of it wandering off!
He cracks an eye open when he hears something creaking- oh. Oh it'd just- it was exploring the room. Oh, okay, alright that was. Fine. Fine. Ignoring the fact that even if he wanted to chase it down he probably couldn't now that he was being viscerally reminded as well that he was starting to experience symptoms of bloodloss.
Kisa comes back, he watches it drag a bundle of fabric behind itself, it looked like a blanket? Did it think he was cold?
It gets it close to the knee it'd just be rubbing against, before sitting expectantly in front of it, and pointing a paw at his injured shoulder, letting out another one of its noises.
Oh- it- Oh. H-huh.
So it did understand him? Or had some level of intelligent thought at least.
Or! He was delirious. That was also entirely a possibility.
He felt the blanket though and well, that was very real. And well, Kisa had the right idea. He was bleeding out. There was no arguing that. If he kept putting off doing something about it he was going to die.
And his corpse would probably poison Kisa. He grimaces.
He picks up the blanket and uses his right arm along with his fangs to start tearing strips.
Ideally, he would clean out the wound first. The metal that had gouged into his shoulder, as briefly as he'd looked at it, did not look good. Infection was a high possibility (an infected infected, hah...). But he wouldn't be alive to get infected, again, if he bled out first. He could do a patch job, keep the rest of the sheet, and see if he could find anything else to patch himself up with.
... he didn't have the normal supplies he would normally have on himself if he went on a solo op. Another thing upon the stack of crappy things that didn't make sense about waking up in this place. And he still hadn't seen any sign of any other Rhodes personnel. Something was very wrong, no matter how you looked at it.
He shook his head, focus. Immediate problems first. As much as this whole situation pissed him off, he could live to be pissed off about it later.
He had to consider whether or not to fish out his dagger and cut off the ruined, bloodied arm of his jacket, but ultimately decided it'd be simpler to just take it off like normal. He was quick about it, clenching his jaw against every pull and every muscle movement. Keeping his mind focused on the sensation of his tight jaw and the precision of his movements, if he focused on the pain he'd risk faltering and he couldn't risk that right now, he was the only thing he could rely on.
Well. He could reasonably guess Kisa would try to find help, but he wasn't going to send that fuzz beast into the depths of this unknown and now proven dangerous place to get him help for something he could reasonably handle himself.
Jacket off, he was done with the worst part. Until he had to clean it later at least. He picked up the first strip of unevenly torn cloth and began deftly using his right arm in combination with his mouth to wrap the white strips around his shoulder and arm. Anybody watching would note that he knew exactly what he was doing, as if he'd done this several times before, not being tripped up in the slightest by being down an arm or in pain. He made it look easy.
It was almost soothing, how methodical the work was, if not for the sharp pain in his arm it would've been enjoyable. Within minutes of starting he was done, eyes refocusing as best they could, blinking sweat out of his eyes.
...Not bad. Pretty good. He turned his arm over, making sure there were no gaps and that everything was well covered. He could see red already starting to show through closest to where the fang holes from the plant-beast were, but there wasn't much he could do about that. He mentally put 'find a thread and needle' on his priority list.
If he ran into any friendlies he'd have to warn them about the possible contagion issue.
He stared at his arm a bit longer... then slumped back against the wall. A wave of light-headedness deciding to hit him right that moment. He- he would get up in a second. He needed to steady himself...