Ah, [comes a noise of acknowledgement so quiet it'd be hard to tell Illarion had voiced it, but for the puff of cloudy breath with the sound.] Then it is so, I have woken you. My apologies; I did not mean this.
[He opens an eye, tipping his head to regard her--bleary and lopsided--through his veil. To be greeted as it's you has put a hint of a smile on his face, the barest up-curling of one corner of his mouth. It's very sweet in its way, incongruous with the whole situation and the gently slumbering god at their backs.]
I am not, as it happens, "all right." [Consciousness is taking active effort; so would lying and pretending he's better off than he is, whatever his instinct to hide the injury.] Though I am mending. What is not, [he takes an unsteady breath,] killing us Sleepers outright, we heal from, yes?
[To say nothing of the Lake's help, and Moon Presence's gentle aura. That latter was not renowned for healing, but it is making him feel safer--more able to take this moment to rest.
It is, in a small way, very tempting indeed to lay his head back against the Pthumerian and fall asleep as a way to avoid Luna's other question.
He does not do that, though he is several seconds in getting to it--now that he's (he thinks) reassured her his case isn't critical.] As for this, [he gestures toward the smear of blood at his throat,] I am attacked by a monster. I am letting its fangs get too close to my neck, yes?
[Which glosses over entirely what sort of monster it was, and why he'd made such a mistake in the first place. Perhaps it will be enough.]
no subject
[He opens an eye, tipping his head to regard her--bleary and lopsided--through his veil. To be greeted as it's you has put a hint of a smile on his face, the barest up-curling of one corner of his mouth. It's very sweet in its way, incongruous with the whole situation and the gently slumbering god at their backs.]
I am not, as it happens, "all right." [Consciousness is taking active effort; so would lying and pretending he's better off than he is, whatever his instinct to hide the injury.] Though I am mending. What is not, [he takes an unsteady breath,] killing us Sleepers outright, we heal from, yes?
[To say nothing of the Lake's help, and Moon Presence's gentle aura. That latter was not renowned for healing, but it is making him feel safer--more able to take this moment to rest.
It is, in a small way, very tempting indeed to lay his head back against the Pthumerian and fall asleep as a way to avoid Luna's other question.
He does not do that, though he is several seconds in getting to it--now that he's (he thinks) reassured her his case isn't critical.] As for this, [he gestures toward the smear of blood at his throat,] I am attacked by a monster. I am letting its fangs get too close to my neck, yes?
[Which glosses over entirely what sort of monster it was, and why he'd made such a mistake in the first place. Perhaps it will be enough.]