Théodred Heavenshield
Norbæn Véurr
Himmeldal
Heavy eyes lids open only to let in a piercing pain a result for the morning light filtering through the window by his bed. Théo turned his head away as the stabbing cut his head. A soft groan escaped his lips, he felt like he had been on the mead all night, or hit by a speeder, his body aching. At this point he had forgotten, but rolling on his side to attempt to get out of bed reality soon kicked in as the pain in his side set him back. He lost breath just for a moment, sat still so not to cause any more hurt to himself, he looked down to his side only to see a bandage wrapped around his torso and a brown patch of old blood that had seeped through the cloth. The event of the hunt returned to his memory.
He looked around his room, suddenly aware he was here and that is was impossible for him to be. Questions entered his mind, he knew he had not walked or crawled to the house, he remembers the brilliant light glowing among the forest and that had to be it. Belawir.
But that was impossible too. Wasn't it?
He leaned a hand on the side table, and pushed himself up to his feet, his legs very unstable beneath his weight and they trembled threatening to give way. Bent over Théo remained in place adjusting to the pain he feels before he permitted himself to stand erect. Slow unsure steps took him to the window, a hand resting against the pane for support, he looked outside to see the first snow fall of summer.
"How long have I been here?", he asked the snow drift, which would never answer. The fact was, it had been three days ...