Closed (Infirmary) Alternate Roles (Ricky)

[Gale Austin McCenry]

Common Vani Nari

Summer 91st, 513 A.V.
Infirmary

A torpid man laid in his best. Silent. Still. With his slow breathing, you would assume he was asleep. Sound asleep. Peaceful even. But he was wide awake.

Gale was curled up on his side, eyes open, staring at his bare hand. His blood had already stained the bed and the moist bandages were piled next to him. His vacuous eyes starred. They starred at the exposed nubs of which fingers use to lay. Where they use to lay... He hadn't yet comprehended how exactly this... loss would affect him. Probably for the better. He had other things to contemplate over.

As his red. tear filled eyes gawked at the sight of the missing limbs, his mind wondered off on it's own. It walked out of his beloved city, the city that he held with veneration, and made it's way up the mountain pass. It followed a dirt path and stopped at a rock, which had an etching of the name Hana. It pressed onward, reaching further into the trees. It continued until a body was found. A body of a young women. One that had once been overflowing with enthusiasm and glee. A woman who contumaciously forced a smile onto others faces. But that imbued personality was long gone from her emaciated face. In replace of such, was a torpid expression. Mouth agape and eyes as tremulous as as the blue sky. So still they were. It seemed impossible. How mollified she seemed. There was no lamentation. No sagacity.There was nothing forlorn about her look at all. Nothing was there besides that asperity of terror. That's all that lasts on a corpse, after all. The smell of fear and the look of horror.

Tears made tracks down the pale man's face, soaking into the pillow like they had been. That's three now. Three bodies that had fallen victim to the hands of bereavement. To the hands of death. His mother... Hana... And now Kendhl. Dear Kendhl. Poor, sweet, innocent Kendhl. Gale counted the bloody nubs on his hand in a hushed whisper. "One... Two... Three..." That's three...

[Ricky Maze]

Click click click click all the way down the hall and make a left, that brought him down the Wing and into the area of the Infirmary in a matter of chimes. Ricky remembered that night well when he brought the lightweight Godfather to his child here, the worry great as more time went while Gale slowly bled out his limb. What the hell happened that night? Whatever aroused the wild canines of the Pass apparently caused quite a stir to bring misfortune upon Gale and his friend Kendhl, but of course she was a friend to quite a number of people before this incident had occured. Even Ricky himself mourned for the loss of a number in their social group, the fact that a bright and energetic one such as Kenny.... the way she lit up the world with her bubbly personality.... she definitely was a rare gem to come across in this dark world, one that would be very well missed for the time to come.

Now Gale on the other hand... he no doubt was the closest to Kenny compared to every other person she knew, Ricky could understand well the pain the artist must've felt for such a sudden loss. In the short time they grew together it had to have felt like years, years spent between best friends with a strong loyal passion... Yes, there was a similiar pain he felt. That pain being when he lost his dog, bondmate or not that special bond between them still existed to the end. Yet Kendhl wasn't a dog, she was in fact a Kelvic. Part of her resembled a human and the other part an animal, and even though Kelvics themselves were mysterious to Ricky; he still thought them as a complete balance of the two all the same. Which meant his understanding of Gale's suffering now, that could only be measured by the fact they know of powerful bonds. "Dammit!" He cursed under the release of his breath as the emotion tried to overwhelm his thoughts. "Why'd it 'ad t' come t' dis? Neit'er o' dem deserve dis!" He could only hope his fated friend was okay upon visiting the artist, but he doubted such hope existed. Still he would find out soon since he came near the door.

Ricky took a moment to peek in before he entered, quick to notice Gale counted the missing pieces that would make his hand a whole. A somber expression fell upon the guard immediately as he noticed Gale still looked to be in pain, even worse he noticed the stream of tears on the artists face upon closer observation. "Shyke...." Ricky retreated from the door with a hand brought up to his face, index finger and thumb pressed at the inner corners of his eyes. His heart felt heavy and even ached for Gale now that he'd been seen in this state, thus Ricky sighed as he wiped his hand over his face in a sorry state. He felt guilty for some reason. Guilty because he couldn't save Kendhl maybe? Or perhaps because he felt like he failed to protect such a dear dear friend. Either way he wasn't ready to face Gale immediately, it took a moment or two to take and hold in several deep breaths. Once he felt his emotions were under control again, Ricky looked back to the door and knocked twice before he entered.

""ey dere Gale," Ricky forced a smile as best as he could upon entering, "Oi came as soon as Oi could mate. 'ow 're ya feelin?" He asked the artist as calmly as he could, although his voice quaked once or twice in doing so. He could only hope the friendly smile he forced would improve Gale's mood just by some small chance, but like before all hope could easily be out the window with such a depressing situation like the current one here.

[Gale Austin McCenry]

Common Vani Nari

Unsure of how to make of this count, he counted again, but this time of the limbs that were left. One... Two... Only two... The realization that he may never draw with the same amount of precision as before never crossed his mind. It wasn't what he was worried about anyhow. He didn't care about his job. He didn't care where he was or where he lived or if he'd even survive this devastation, despite the nurse's assurance he would as long as he didn't get an infection. All he thought about was the past. The attack. That exact moment... when Kendhl died. That moment when their bond was ripped in half. That's all he could think about. Just the lonely, shredded, dangling rope that use to be apart of something bigger. Hanging there in the wind like a body hanging from a noose. But that's not even the worst part. Nope, not to Gale.

The worst part was that the other half of that bond was still out there in the pass. Laying limply under a few tree branches just rotting away slowly. He could picture the stains on her skin with the bond simply shattered around her. Her eyes were blacker than death then. He can't possibly imagine the emptiness in them now. But that wouldn't matter either. They were just going to get eaten by them blood petching dogs as if she was just another meal. Because she was. She was just another meal... She... was only important to him... Those dogs didn't give a damn. That Kelvic didn't give a damn. Nobody gave a damn but him. Because that's just how this damn petching world worked. The only important thing in your life was just a piece of shyke to everyone else. They could throw it in the dirt, tear it apart, and no one would shed a single tear besides you. And while you suffered the loss, they just went on with their petty lives as if nothing ever happened...

No one cared... No one ever cared...

Gale's hand grabbed the soiled bandages laying next to him. The weakened hand slowly started to rewrap his hand. Wouldn't want to get an infection now would he?

The Zeltivan tucked the last bit of clothe under another strand to finish off wrapping the injury and he closed his eyes. As usual, visions of the flashing teeth engulfed his imagination. And when two knocks came to the door they were disguised as howling barks. Woof woof went the starving dog. Snap crack when the bones in ones neck. But dogs didn't talk did they?

The widower opened his eyes and looked over his shoulder at the hulking bear that walked into the room. Oh, hey Gale. I just decided to drop by. How ya feelin' mate? Oh, he was doing just fine, yeah. Fine and dandy. You know, if you take away that the love of his life died and he was eaten by dogs. Yeah, juuuust fine.

"Look who finally decided to show up." The man said in a hushed whisper, for anything louder made him feel like he was yelling. What Gale meant by that was up for interpretation, however, he refused to dignify the question of whether he was alright with an answer. Instead, he was silent for a few ticks. He watched himself walk to Ricky's house and dropping the decapitated head on the ground. "Ricky..." He started so softly that one would have to strain to hear. But wait-... was this the first time he called him by his real name? Did he do that on purpose?

Yes. Yes he did.

"Ricky... What did you do with the dog's head?"

[Ricky Maze]

As Ricky hesitated before knocking he didn’t fail to see the pain, although it was rather too obvious even a poor observer could see, the amount of loss and sorrow was evident in not just the artist’s face alone. The need to count what remained attached to his hand proved to be an obvious sign that Gale was already working past the denial part of his incident, albeit the denial had to have sunken in hard when the man first woke up. What made Ricky feel worse about this was the fact that he’d no idea how to make anything better for Gale, other than trying to be here for him? Maybe that would be a start. Yet how much would it truly mean for Ricky to be with someone who needed him for once, rather than the other way around when he seemed to have need of a friend.

Gale’s voice was low, low enough to where silence would break if it were any louder. Of course with a solemn silence that held firm in the air of the mood, Ricky could only expect such hushed whispers from a man who lived through a hell of a night. Then of course there it was. That one word Ricky never thought he’d hear Gale get right, when it turns out in fact the artist somehow actually repeated it once more. Had he truly intended to call him Ricky? The fisherman seemed to believe so, but to hear it didn’t bring him the uplifting joy he expected. Then again hearing the name “Richard” wasn’t half as bad, and if one considered the gravity of the situation now… Ricky would give anything to hear that same word with the happy meaning behind it. Funny. Nicknames somehow worked like that even if your friend meant it like an actual name, yet Ricky believed that it was all the meaning behind the name that really mattered the most.

"Oi uh…." The mutt’s ugly mug. What did Ricky have to do with it when he got home? Well the answer was simple really. Down in the lower levels of the complex they lived in was a worn down grate that led to the sewers of the city, and since it was dark Ricky had much less to worry about people when he let the wretched thing fall down into the dank smelly abyss that waited below. "Let’s just say de rats ‘re eatin’ good somewhere underneat’ de city." He quirked with a stroke of his chin hair, curious whether or not if Gale could assume that the small cryptic message came across well enough. What was Ricky suppose to do with it anyway? Burn it? Bury it? Throw it into the sea and let some poor sailor or fisherman discover it later? Turns out the sewers were the best place to put such thing, as no one ever went down there without a justifiable means of course. Yet those means would cost them their noses and their hygiene for a long, long, very long time…

"Cleaned de floor up as well, ye canny find a trace o’ dog anywhere." He assured the artist a bit nervous as he approached, a slow ease into the chair next to his bed while he waited to hear any other words Gale might have to say. There would be a few chimes of silence between them if there weren’t any questions or remarks to be made, as Ricky thought hard about what he could say to make something good out of all this. Nothing came to his mind though. He felt like such a fool for it too, considering he would always find something useful to say. As pointless as it was to bring it up he figured it was a start, so finally with a sigh the fisherman broke his own brought on silence and sincerely looked to Gale in the most understanding way possible. "Gale, Oi know ‘bout what ‘appened wit’…" The pause. Sure enough Gale knew where it went, in reference to the one he’d just lost. "Oi canny say Oi know ‘ow ya feel mate, even if Oi ‘ave lossed things precious t’ me. Oi may ‘ave an understandin’ f’r ya, but as far as what t’ say t’ make anyt’ing better… Oi ‘ave no words."

It was true. How could he deny that there wasn’t anything to say, because in all honesty Ricky had no words to make a friend feel better. Only an assurance that he’ll be around as a close friend, should Gale ever have need of him of course. "Just know dat Tel and Oi ‘re ‘ere f’r ya mate, we care so much ‘bout ya. So we’re both ‘ere f’r anythin’ ya need." It was assurance crossed with a plea. A plea to be given something to do, something to be able to do to make things right for the artist. Even if such things were way beyond his power, that still didn’t guilt Ricky into the need of trying it now.

[Gale Austin McCenry]

Common Vani Nari

It was obvious what happened to the dog head. Gale didn't need Ricky's hesitation, to tell him that the head was thrown out. What was Ricky suppose to do with it? Put it above his fireplace? Cook it for dinner? No, he knew Ricky too way. The artist imagined the head down in the sewers. He imagined vividly the rats tearing it apart one piece at a time, slowly devouring to fill their own stomachs. Not that it would likely satisfy their hunger. They'd probably would gnaw at the bones, selfishly scavenging every bit of it's rotting flesh.

The image brought a smile to Gale's face. His lips contorted into a cruel smile, his eyebrows angling in a viciously pleased manner. Though, the fate that Ricky had chosen was probably more humane than what Gale had planned, however. The rats may have been slower, but not even the bones would have been of any use when Gale would have been done with it. Nothing would have been able to be collected for it would have been even less than a stain of blood in the dirt. It would simply cease to exist. Though, the rats came a close second. Good boy, Richard.

The man pulled the mangled hand towards his chest, his mind turning away from the pleasant scene of the dog being devoured by scoundrels. Instead, it turned to Kendhl. His mind tried to comprehend the pain she must have felt. She didn't make a noise throughout it all. She didn't scream, she didn't do anything. She just laid there, letting the petching bitch tear her throat open. It must have be numbing. That was the only explanation. She didn't feel a thing.

The ruthless smile he held on his face had long but disappeared before Gale muttered,"No." interrupting Ricky's sympathetic excuse. "No you do not." How could he possibly understand how he felt? How can anyone understand how he felt? Losing your petching shyke of a pet is nothing compared to Kendhl. Odis was just a damn dog. A damn, bloody dog. If he really understood, he would be trying not to.

The widower himself tried his best to not understand. Though, it seemed the more he tried to forget, the closer the memories came. It was as if they were taking over his mind, which wasn't a bad way of explaining it. Everything he thought revolved back to Kendhl. The the dogs. It was as if his entire life was circling around this single event. That everything came to a point that directed him to this single memory.

"No need to pity me, Richard." That was, of course, what he was surely doing after all. "I am not the one you should be pitying."Interpretation meant everything at this point. It seemed that almost everything Gale said could have been taken more than one way, for it was hard to tell whether he was talking about Kendhl or the dead dog or something else unknown to the situation at hand. But it didn't matter how Ricky took it, Gale didn't care.

[Ricky Maze]

Somewhere deep down Ricky felt himself at a loss for words, even worse what he said to Gale… those words were far from what the artist needed to hear. Of course there was honesty and truth to them but the expression in Gale’s face… Ricky knew just by reading that expression that his words were practically a cry on deaf ears in terms of mutual understanding. Yes Ricky did know pain, plenty of it in fact. Gale did too of course, in fact it looked as the both of them knew greater amounts of pain on different fronts. Yet that was what formed the bridge of understanding for Ricky, even if Gale felt as though it wasn’t the case, Ricky could indeed feel the pain and sadness the artist felt from the loss that no doubt haunted his memories. Was he able to sleep? Was he able to eat? Was he even able to think towards a way to find closure? To find a sense of clarity that he needed, when the entire world seemed to be nothing but dark denial? Yes Ricky had gone there and it was a hell he never wanted to live through again, although the artist only knew it to be brought on from that which he no doubt hated now, Ricky’s suffering wasn’t only brought on by the loss of a dog.

It was a suffering that was brought on by the loss of love. Deep down Ricky loved Odis, as he loved his father and Godfather Odis. All three were important figures in his life he loved to no end and then lost at some point, even if his father had returned to prove he still lived… Ricky felt the pain of loss already because at that time he truly believed his dad was gone. Now Gale… Gale had to go through the same motions, the same lengths of pain just to endure… to become a stronger person who deep down feared to lose again. That was the very same course Ricky ventured down, it had to somehow be the same for the Godfather of his unborn child. It had to be. The interruption… of course it would only be natural. It was an automatic heartache that governed the mind to no end, how else could Ricky recognize it if he hadn’t experienced himself a few times in his life. There had been enough suffering to be sure, but for Ricky to watch as his best friend suffered worse by now… that made Ricky wish he could take all the pain, all the misery the artist felt and go through it all on his own. Yes. Ricky’s love was that strong, and his passion for his close friends knew almost no bounds. Were he given a chance to trade places with Gale, then sure enough he would do it just to spare the man from further torture.

The next bit Gale said could’ve very well lead to multiple accounts of interpretation, pity for him or pity for the dog? Pity for Kendhl or pity that it happened? Pity that Ricky himself couldn’t be there? Couldn’t stop the event from ever occurring? That seemed like the easy picking for the fisherman, though at the same time it was automatic. Considerably; selfish. Even if Ricky wanted to try and convince Gale that nothing should’ve happened, had he’d been there during the night, there was little to no point in making such a comment. In short Ricky only took a seat next to the artists chair with deep blue eyes away from the artist’s own eyes, mainly locked on the hand wrapped in bandages as his eyes seemed to water from the overwhelming emotion he felt for the man. What did he have to say? What should he considered be pitiable in this case? There was no simple answer, as each question only hinted to a mass web of answers that could only serve as a puzzle piece to the riddle as a whole. He sighed as he held only the sincerest yet glum expression he’d had in a while, probably the same as he once held when Gale found Ricky coping with his loss.

What d’ Oi say t’ ‘im?… ‘ow d’ Oi make all dis better? The silence no doubt may have felt awkward for Gale, or maybe he found himself in wonder at what could possibly be going through Ricky’s mind. Either way the fisherman found himself stumped at choosing the right words, in this particular moment there wasn’t such a thing as “the right words” to pick from, or say for that matter seeing as how his friend had fallen into a deep pit of sorrow. Ricky was vexed, vexed because he couldn’t do anything. Even the act of saying anything felt like a danger to their relationship, which Ricky didn’t wish to put into any risk at all since they’d been such close friends. Finally the fisherman found his voice once more, and after a moment to clear his throat happened Ricky allowed what words felt appropriate to flow freely. "It ain’t yew Oi pity mate, Oi pity dat it ‘as t’ be yew. Ye deserve better dan dis mate, for whatever reason Lhex ‘as t’ shyke on ya like dis… it’s wrong." Of course. He would blame the one thing that seemed beyond his control, though fate was all the more an immaterial thing once could easily learn to control. That is if they knew how.

"Dat bein’ said Oi… Oi’m just sorry mate. Oi canny ‘elp but wish Oi could change t’ings. Make ‘em better f’r ya, so yew dun ‘ave t’ suffer anymore." It was honesty from the heart but even if that were the case, the words flowed on a voice that trembled nervously really. These situations proved tense for Ricky seeing as how he usually kept to himself with the deep personal things, but seeing as how Gale needed more than just a close friend to help him out the fisherman considered the demand pretty damn high. Even if it made him nervous Ricky felt inclined to share whatever seemed appropriate to help the artist in some way, although the ability to look towards Gale’s face proved difficult in the act of doing so.

[Gale Austin McCenry]

Common Vani Nari

Ricky had made his way around the bed and took a seat in front of him. What? Did he want to watch tears run down his face? Oh, no, probably not. Probably wanted that personal, empathetic connection people always look for when something bad happens to someone they know. Why do people always do that? Why do people always want to tell you they know what it's like to walk in your shoes? If anyone petching knew what someone was going through, he was pretty damn sure that no one would be bragging about it. Having a bunch of people who feel sorry for one another isn't going to solve anything, so why didn't people just grow some petching sense and think of some other petching ridiculous thing to say?

Unlike Ricky, Gale wasn't nervous at all about eye contact. As soon as Ricky sat in front of him where he could see, Gale starred at him with the only sort of intensity that could be tender at the same time. His blue eye's starred at Ricky's who wandered the room, resembling that of a tough scab or fresh scar. It was rough looking and not all too pleasant to look at, but it was pink and fresh, revealing it's soft, painful nature. The stare was almost exactly like that. It was aggressive with anger, shielding the pink, wet eyes that actually gave the glare like look at his friend.

The fisherman had gone on with some more shyke that has been said by almost every man since the beginning of time. But something did stick out and stuck onto Gale. His angered stare lightened ever so lightly to reveal a sort of thoughtful look. Or was it doubt? No one could tell anymore.

The man appeared to have been holding his breath, for he closed his eyes and let out a long exhale. It wasn't exactly a sigh but it wasn't a deep breath to relax either. Nevertheless, if it leaned toward either one, it would likely be seen as a deep breath of sorts. Although, that was only because right after he did so, he pulled his left hand in front of him and started to push himself to roll over onto his back.

His face scrunched up into a matter of sharp creases as ever muscle in his face tensed up. Shots of what felt like lighting ran through his hand and up his arm. But after it ran up through his arm, it would return to his hand and gather at his finger tips. Well, what felt like fingertips anyway. There were nothing now but bloody, boney stumps. But before Gale was even able to apply any amount of pressure to roll over, his arm gave out, pulling off the bed quickly and retreating to his chest. Although this was a big effort for Gale, to Ricky it wouldn't look anything more than Gale putting his hand down onto the bed before pulling it back.

Although, his second attempt was better. Instead of using his hand, the artist pulling his left leg back behind his slightly. He bit his lip, and with a light push with his right hand, which was slightly under him, the murderer pushed himself over.

However, Gale was previously on his side. And this meant that his legs were rotated onto their side too. Though, as Gale flipped onto his back, his legs did to, and the deep thigh wound didn't like it.

His eyes got wide for a second as he sucked in a breath sharply from the sudden throbbing. But the blue eyes quickly snapped shut, two more tears managing to roll down each side of his face. His breath was held, and to Gale, it felt like forever. The throbbing in his leg raced and it felt as if teeth were digging in deeper with each pound. It felt like ages until it stopped, in which he let out his breath slowly.

"Do you really want to make it feel better?" Gale spoke just as softly as before, his eyes remaining closed for his statement.

[Ricky Maze]

In his composure Ricky did take note to watch the man he had named the Godfather of his would be child, seriously deep in consideration for the amount of gravity in the weight of his words. Deep down the fisherman knew that even if that was what he wanted, then he would go to any extent to pull it off. Of course even if such extents existed there was no telling just how far Ricky would have to go, or what he was required to do in order to ease the mind of his beloved friend. At best Ricky started to feel himself distanced already, only because the artist had literally seemed to withdrawn in his own shell once more. He had recognized it before, back when they first met. Although he hadn't paid attention much, Ricky knew that Gale lived most of his life behind a mentally constructed wall, a wall that allowed himself to safely distance his feelings from those he cared for.

That wall of course had limits, and in time finally came down when he started to open up once more. Not because of Ricky himself of course but because of Kendhl, for she was the one that made him become a better person in his own right. Made him happy to feel alive once more. Now that she was gone and taken away, he had nothing left other than the fisherman. The man that couldn't save his hope, the man that could only remain his best friend if not adopted brother in some form. Yes. Their bond was that strong but even the threads that tied it together had limits, and so rather than straining those ties Ricky himself took to shell up a little. Just a little of course, only because he in truth wanted to help Gale. Though that wasn't entirely the whole reason, and believe it or not he felt selfish for even thinking about the other half. In truth Ricky valued the relationship with Gale, he wanted to make sure nothing would come between them to ruin such a relationship. After what they had been through Ricky personally cared for Gale, even found himself able to love the artist as he were part of the family.

And then... he did. Gale was proclaimed Godfather for multiple reasons, that alone made him one of the most important people in Ricky's lifetime. Yes. Ricky did feel selfish to see it that way, because it all more or less reflected upon him in the end. Him and his desires rather than Gale's, who now sat with a pained look on his face as he came to be situated better. To say that Ricky wasn't in the slightest concerned when he watched Gale... there wasn't honestly any words to share, because he just cared that much for his friend. Was it mad that he truly loved and felt for his friend that much? Probably. Yet even so Ricky felt that way, thus could only wish for a way to offer help if not ease for his suffering. Then finally, the question. A reflective question that could've very well shed a little light on the personal feelings Ricky held within, a question that most definitely led on to the idea that something could be done were it in Ricky's power.

That moment, Ricky's jaw slightly dropped as he nearly held his own breath. Not out of surprise or astonishment, but out of hope that he may, just may, be able to help out one of the most important friends in his life. "Damn straight," He reassured the artist with a bit of a furrow in his brow, "As o' roi now Oi would give anyt'in t' make ya feel better, even trade places were such an idea capable o' doin' so." Complicated as it would've been he did speak mostly truth, as he found argumentative thoughts in his head upon saying those words. Why would he trade his happy life for the life Gale lived? He had a both a wife and a child to expect soon, so why give up the very things that would make him the happiest man alive? He wouldn't. Deep down he would have it hard if he tried, the decision to do so something that likely lead to impossible means. Yet he did speak of "any extent" did he not? Gale also meant the world to him, and Ricky didn't want to lose that either.

So... yes he would be conflicted, yes he would find himself in a world of pain and misery. Yet Gale would be that happy one, he would be the one to live a life with a family instead. That's something he deserved. So if they traded places, were it so, then indeed Ricky would do his best to see it through. Of course the conflictual choice was led by words that almost rang empty, the meaning behind them all but hollow as he tried to express just how much he really cared about Gale deep down. "If Oi 'ad it in me mate, Oi'd give it me all t' 'elp yew feel better. Oi'd go t' any distance possible, just t' see dat yew never get 'urt again." He condoned once more with a sincere approach, a sudden fluctuation in his heartbeat as he found the concept unnerving to admit.

[Gale Austin McCenry]

Common Vani Nari

Gale didn't need someone to give up everything for him. He didn't need anyone to trade places with him. He didn't want to trade places with anyone, if he truly thought about it. He just wanted it gone. The pain gone. The memories gone. He didn't want them anymore! He didn't want to have to remember the gruesome sights of the dog's teeth and Kendhl's mangled flesh. He wanted it gone and gone forever. Forgotten and tossed into the depths of the void, if it meant that. But no one had that power. No matter how much he, or Ricky, wanted to take it away, neither of them could. It was yet another scar that would reveal its ugly head and haunt him for the rest of his life.

The pessimist closed his eyes again, Ricky's words ringing in his ears. If he wanted to help him, Gale supposed he couldn't take that right away. The artist would attempt to move again, but this time to simply sit up rather than to roll over. But this process wasn't any easier than the one before, to his dismay.

Gale pressed his right hand into the bed next to him slightly. Though, he appeared to have changed his mind and pulled his hand up more towards his pillow rather than down at his side. He pressed down on the mattress again, his muscles already starting to ache from the movement. The man pulled himself up with a rather rough push, his eyes closing tightly as his arm and torso seemed to cringe and tighten. Although there was no major damage to their muscles, for they merely had scratches at most, they were still extremely sore. More so than he ever remember ever being. So it wasn't much of a 'level up' compared to actually getting bitten there. Or so it felt.

Gale wrapped his arms around his stomach, seeing as this area hurt most. He let out a wince, but it didn't take as long as before for the flare to die down. "Okay..." He muttered as if he was defeated by Ricky's persistence to make it all better. "Out in the pass..." Gale paused, opening his eyes and looking at the blanket covering his legs. "Out in the pass, there is a trail that leads off the main road."

His eyes started to drift, looking over at his thigh, imagining what was underneath. Gale was far to curious for his own good. Even when he didn't want to see it, he managed to take the bandages off his hand to look. It was horrifying. If it weren't for gnashing teeth, his mind would be consumed by the bloody nubs and the images they would ensue. But he hadn't had a chance to look at his leg. His mind wasn't worried about it, at least compared to the missing limbs of his hand. Gale watched as his full hand slowly grazed the blanket above his bandages lightly. "If you go down that trail, there is a small clearing with a rock in it." He hesitated again. He took a noticeable breath in, and the air wavered as it entered."If you go beyond that into the trees some more..." There was a clear falter in his voice and the murderer closed his eyes. "There... is where Kendhl and I were attacked..." His hand pulled away from his leg and wiped his cheek, seeing as yet another tear was shed. "I honestly don't know what you'll find... He sniffed loudly.

It was true. He didn't know what Ricky would find if he went there. Perhaps broken bones, scattered along in the dirt. Maybe the bloat corpse of a young woman. Maybe something between. He didn't know, maybe he wouldn't find anything at all. Maybe nature has already washed the incident clean, using rain to wash away the blood stained dirt. He didn't know.

"But whatever you find, I want you to take it back to the rock and bury it next to it." Gale sounded rather angry again, but clearly upset, seeing as the man started crying again, constantly using his wrists and arms to wipe his face.

Gale hoped that Ricky would find something. That is, if Ricky even decided to go out. Goddess, he hoped that there was at least something. If those greedy vagiks took everything... If they took everything so help him that he would personally find each and every one of them and chop them into so many pieces that they would be little more than dust. There had to be something left. A bone, a cloth, Ssena, even if it was a hair! He couldn't have an empty grave. There was nothing more depressing, nothing more hopeless than an empty grave.

Before Gale realized it, he was sobbing. Lost in his thunder storm of thoughts, he had gradually became more upset until he was sobbing into his hands and the stained white cloth.

[Ricky Maze]

Ricky's expression changed a little as he watched Gale try to lean up, the initial reaction one of awe when the pessimist winced for only a moment just before he finally started off with something, a request for Ricky to try and carry out by the sound of it. It helped made Ricky feel a little less helpless now that he had something he could do, something that Gale needed of him in this time of tragedy that struck once more. Mirahil Pass, a trail from the main road. He noted patiently as the man continued to explain. T'ere's a clearin wit' a rock, pass de tree's an' den...

His eyes bulged a little as he realized what he was being told, what Gale had shared with him was information on the place that the two were attacked. More importantly the request itself was a personal favor in regards to finding peace in mind, whatever was left of Kendhl had to be found and placed to rest... next to this rock that Ricky could only assume was an important landmark to Gale. It wasn't the simplest of favors but by Goddess it wasn't the hardest either, now that Ricky knew just what exactly he had to do in an effort to help his close friend find that first step in grief. He wants me t' bury Kenny. Oi can't let 'em down now. He thought deeply as he considered what he would find up there, no doubt the mangy mutts that attacked them had already moved on.

"Aye..." He nodded as he spoke ever so lightly, the soft tone of voice still held a powerful deep feeling of concern for a friend though. No doubt Gale knew this, he knew that deep down Ricky cared, and would follow through with this without a second thought. Hell. He'd do more than bury Kenny, he'd even... why that made a great idea! Better if they protected the grave from the outer forces of nature, not even that was certain but by Priskil herself Ricky could hope to do this as an honor for his fated friend. "Oi promise ya Oi won't rest 'till she properly rest in de earth." He assured Gale with a gentle hand on the artists shoulder, a light touch though in the event that might have suffered from injury as well. With that said and done though he wouldn't wait any further, he had a job to do after all and it was better to get it done as quick as possible. Kenny's body wasn't going to wait after all, not when nature herself would determine the natural course of the cycle of life. No... he would go there, shovel in hand even, and he would do this because Gale needed it.

Even if Gale asked him to do this, Ricky didn't accept out of good heart. He accepted because he felt it a responsibility, something he had to do because the man who was the Godfather of his unborn child needed it. Gale needed closure, needed to find himself able to grieve and in turn honor Kenny by. Her memory was no doubt going to remain a part of this grave, but in truth there was something more to it, something deeper that Ricky hadn't yet found out just yet. He had a feeling though that this was only scratching the surface, as he would not only show Gale he would always be the brotherly friend that could be relied on, but that Ricky was actually serious when he would tell Gale he's a part of this family. Because with family one had to take care of their own, and that's exactly what Ricky intended to do today. Sure enough he was already on his way out the door, a quick pace in his step as he made for the general store. There he would rent a shovel if possible, and if not buy it so he could continue his task in helping Gale.

The trek up to the pass resulted in a search of course, with so many possible off beaten paths to find, but in turn Ricky found a trail actually led upward into the pass instead of further down or deeper within, and when he followed that trail he soon came to discover the landmark he was told about. That landmark... being a grave already. By the looks of it at least, the rock used as a headstone was part of the indication at least. This made Ricky ponder for a moment, who else was buried here that Gale knew? Somebody important? He had to imagine that Gale was connected, because as far as Ricky knew Gale was the only person that told him such a place like this existed. And with the details he gave, it was thorough enough for Gale to actually remember the place too. The trees were right where he said they were. De trees. His expression faded into a sullen look as he knew what awaited next, and that would likely be the body of the once cheerful girl he once knew.

His heart grew heavy as did his legs, the knee's felt a sense of gravity fluctuation as he took steps forward. He was close... close now and sure enough he was right in sight. There... There just beyond the trees in a little grove resided a body, a body covered in branches of a dark colored red. Almost black really. The smell of the place was... No! Gods no! Ricky couldn't think ill of this. Nature had already started to affect this area, but it wasn't too late at least. The fisherman shoved the shovel into the dirt next to him as he entered the area further, his mind lost in the place that was no doubt the scene of a horrid event. He could still feel it in the air, the foreboding sense of fear and blood. Of loss and despair, of pain and death. What transpired here... was by far a means of cruel fate itself. Ken... Kendhl. He passed the partially decomposed carcass of a beheaded mutt, already quick to make the connection with the head he disposed of the other night. Kenny though... her body hadn't fully felt the forces of nature around her it seems, thanks to the cold moisture in the air that blanketed the bay.

Kendhl... He knelt down to the blanket of pine branches, a hand hovered over her for a moment before he felt his own heart suddenly drop. That girl. That same bright and cheery girl, the overly optimistic otter Kelvic he once knew... this was her dammit! Tears started to roll out his eyes now, stream down his cheeks as he mourned for her, and Gale as well. But alas he couldn't just sit there, he couldn't let himself falter from the given task he had to perform for his close friend. After what part of him that had fallen into sudden mourning found a recomposed state, he then proceeded to be careful with her remains. He was gentle at best and made sure that she was moved to the area where the other stone resided, and then from there Ricky started digging. He would dig and dig and dig, the shovel harsh as the edge was firmly planted in the dirt and rock. This continued until he would finally dig a hole large enough to be a grave, and then after finally resting Kendhl's body within the upturned earth, he would then buried her with the uncovered dirt he had dug.

It took about two to three bells worth before he had completely finished this process, but what followed next was by far the only other alternative in the effort to pay his respects to both Kendhl and Gale. What Ricky did was try to focus on his shielding some, and it started with using the emotions he had felt earlier in that day. First was the state of grief that led to the longing sense of wanting to be able to do something, to bargain for something that would've been the better alternative. It was funny how everyone went through the motions when they coped with a person's loss, Ricky hadn't known Kenny well enough and not for very long either, yet he could feel it from Gale's own pain. He could feel how special she was, how important she'd become to him. There was intense yearnings to wish he could've protected them, deep desires to bring out the greatest wall that would've separated the two from the threat they faced. That in turn sharpened the focus Ricky had as he zoned out onto the two graves that were next to one another, with a hand placed over the head of each grave he sent his Djed forward. The channel traveled from his hands and out over the surface of the graves, a faint royal blue shimmer shown to him as he could feel his Djed flow freely into a fabric, fabric that spread over the dirt like butter over bread.

He started from the head to the foot of both graves, his shields thin as parchment and patchy in some places. He still had a lot more practice to do before the shields were to improve, until then though he would be sure to visit this place often. As often as he could at least, so that he could continue creating shields over these graves. It was the least he could to for Gale, for Kenny even, seeing as how the fisherman owed him more than just this important favor. With that done the fisherman finally went home, hopeful that the artist would be on the mend soon.