[he doesn't know the significance of Bariyan's gesture, but it surprises him nevertheless. The moment is fleeting, though, overwhelmed by another crippling spasm of agony. He sucks in air, listing forward against Bariyan, and it's too much--Bariyan's nearness, the insistent, howling demands of Koltira's own veins, and the pain they inflict at his continued failure to obey.
He's blinded for a moment, the world going completely dark. He has no awareness outside of the pain and of the man standing so horribly close to him, his skin cool but soft, pliant, ripe for shredding. He wonders if Bariyan bleeds, wonders about the color and the taste, and suddenly he's back in the forest. He murmurs raggedly.]
no subject
He's blinded for a moment, the world going completely dark. He has no awareness outside of the pain and of the man standing so horribly close to him, his skin cool but soft, pliant, ripe for shredding. He wonders if Bariyan bleeds, wonders about the color and the taste, and suddenly he's back in the forest. He murmurs raggedly.]
Bariyan. Forgive me.
[and then he lifts the sword.]