When the Ground is so Far... (Malady)

[Colt]

23rd of Winter The sun was going down by the time he opened his eyes. The first thing he noticed was his skull-splitting headache. Stifling a groan, the Drykas man slowly uncurled from a fetal position, muscles protesting from their day’s sleep. The stone ledge beneath him didn’t seem to have warmed at all, either from the fading heat of the sun or that of his own body. He was numb from the cold and general abuse he had endured the last few days, and knew that the pain he felt right now was just the beginning. Being the quietest he possibly could, Khasr slipped from the stone ledge on to the floor of the cave. His skin tugged in countless places, reminding him of the scabs that needed to heal. Though he knew a smattering of herblore, he couldn’t even gather what was needed to disinfect his wounds properly. The night prior, he had thoroughly licked all the gashes he could reach and had simply spread his saliva on everywhere else. It would work for the time being. It would work until he could escape. Taking slow steps and keeping one hand on the wall, Khasr made his way to the mouth of the cave. The sunset painted the sky in reds and golds and pinks and yellows, and to the east the sky was a rich purple. He heard a distant screech and turned his gaze skywards. A hawk was circling high above, calling out just loud enough for Khasr to hear a snatch of sound before it was stolen by the wind. While jealousy once would have blossomed, now it did not. He was simply too tired. Instead, he simply gazed at the raptor with deep longing, wishing for all the world that he had wings so he could fly away. He didn’t know if the she-Zith was asleep or out, or even if she was watching him, but he truly, honestly did not care. He didn’t want to bother with caring. He just wanted to melt here, melt into the sunset and be a blazing orange the color of flame, or maybe a rich red, or perhaps the deep blue nipping at daylight’s heels. He just wanted to be at ease…