It Sure Looks Like You're Bleeding

74 9 2
                                    


CW // Grief, mention of dead spouse, blood


Alxton was back with the group.

Sigils was glad; he guessed he should feel that way.

But why, but why was everybody talking about the returned member when Henwy actually tried to kill us?

He glared at the paper plate Nico set in front of him sourly.

"How are ya feeling?" Nico smiled, sitting down next to him and glancing at his arms. "Those look a lot better..."

Sigils raised an eyebrow at him.

Nico sighed. "Are you going to eat? Or- maybe at least stop glaring at everyone like they killed your h- uh- um- wait, no, I didn't"

Sigils' chest ignited with a flare of heat, and he stood up sharply, ignoring the pain in his joints as he snarled at Nico.

"Sigils, wait, I didn't mean that- wait." Nico hissed, eyes wide as he stood up.

Without a word, Sigils turned and stalked out of the clearing, his eyes stinging with tears.

He ignored Nico's calls, gritting his teeth and blinking harshly as he walked into the medical tent. He looked at himself in the mirror.

I look terrible. He thought angrily, wiping his face with an arm.

Blood streaked across his face.

Sigils froze, looking down at his arm.

Several wounds had opened again, a steady drip of blood falling off his skin.

He stared at his torn flesh for a moment, stomach churning, and felt yet ANOTHER tear fall down his face.

"Ugh, stop freaking crying-." He muttered, tearing his eyes off the wound and looking back in the mirror.

Wimp.

He grabbed the bandages from the counter, pressing them into his arm and wincing.

Idiot.

The red spread in blotchy spots on the fabric, but didn't bleed through.

"Uh- Sigils?"

He looked up sharply, meeting eyes with Zud.

He cursed himself, looking away and wiping his face harshly with his scarred palms.

"Are you bleeding?"

"N-no." Sigils hissed, gritting his teeth even harder.

"It sure looks like you're bleeding."

Sigils whipped back around to face Zud quickly, snarling. "What do you want?"

Zud's eyes widened, looking suddenly sheepish. "Frost just told me to check on you before I went on my trip..."

"You're going on a trip?" Sigils narrowed his green eyes at the man.

Zud looked down, his eyes meeting Sigils' bandaged arm. "Um- yep. On a trip for Frost to go get some supplies."

"Why doesn't he get them himself?" Sigils asked suspiciously, tucking his arm behind his back to avoid Zud's eyes.

"I dunno," Zud said, shrugging. "Probably has to stay for the new peo- I mean, you guys."

Sigils and Zud stood in uncomfortable silence until the shorter man cleared his throat.

"Well, um, you'd- you'd better get on that trip." He muttered.

"Yeah, yeah." Zud grinned, backing up. "Y- um, you still have, blood, on your face."

Dash it all.

Sigils scrubbed his face harshly yet again, grumbling crossly.

When he looked up, the tent door fluttered, and there was Zud, walking out to the lakeside.

And that's when he noticed.

Zud had no bags, no pouches or pockets, nor a note from the leader anywhere in sight.

Only a dagger in his leather sheath, glittering dangerously in the sunlight.

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