Chapter 4
Sorry about being dead everyone! I'm a 13 yo teen, wtf else do you think I'll do apart from procrastinate? :/ Also let's just say that they made it back to da house, why? bc I is being a lazy fuck. This is from Clown's POV.
I moved swiftly, the urgency of the moment driving every step as I snatched Branzy from Valerie's back. I couldn't help but give the horse a small, sad smile, a gesture laden with unspoken emotions. His silvery-white hair, which had always been a breathtaking sight, was now marred by crimson stains, a stark contrast to its former glory. His vibrant, galaxy-like purple eyes, usually full of life, were now firmly shut, as if the stars themselves had dimmed, casting a shadow over his very being. Cradling him in a bridal-style hold, I hurried toward the nearest house, with ancient, twisted branches forming a canopy overhead, whispering secrets that only they, in their timeless wisdom, could truly comprehend.
"Rek! I need your help!" I rapped urgently on the door, and it creaked open to reveal Rekkrap, his eyes wide with surprise. He was a skilled healer in the village, renowned for his extensive knowledge of both traditional remedies and mystical cures. His very presence promised a sliver of hope. "The hell happened?!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the night, reflecting the gravity of the situation.
"Good grief, Rekkrap, there's no time for explanations right now!" I replied, my voice trembling as I entered the dimly lit cottage. I gently placed Branzy on a soft, plush bed with white sheets, which were quickly stained a deep red as blood continued to flow from his wounds, creating an unsettling tableau of despair. Rek rushed off for a moment before returning with a basket brimming with presumably life-saving supplies. I was proved correct as he took the hand-woven top off, dug around for a moment, and pulled out linen bandages. I snatched them off Rek, my hands trembling, and quickly began to wrap the bandages around my... friend's head. In that moment, Branzy's well-being was the sole focus of my existence.
The room was filled with tension, the only sound being the soft rustling of bandages and the occasional heavy sigh from Rekkrap, an audible manifestation of his concern. It felt as if time had slowed down, and all that mattered was the life of the man lying on the bed. As I worked, I couldn't help but steal glances at Branzy's delicate features, each detail more poignant than the last. His plump, full lips, his long, slightly girly lashes, his puffy, silver hair—it was as if he were a work of art, a masterpiece that was slowly slipping away from me.
"Okay, tell me what the actual hell happened," Rekkrap said, his frustration mingling with genuine concern as he continued to provide assistance.
"I don't exactly know, Rek. He sent his falcon, though..." I replied, my voice trailing off as I got lost in my own thoughts, contemplating the mystery surrounding the ordeal.
"Well, okay," Rekkrap said, huffing out in annoyance. "Uh, I'm gonna go get more supplies for healing potions." He announced and quickly left the room, leaving me, Clown Pierce, alone with my overwhelming and melancholic thoughts.
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I sat by Branzy most the time, staring at his soft features. His plump, full lips, his long, slightly girly, lashes, his puffy, silver hair. He was beautiful, and yet he could never be mine. Not in this world. Perhaps in another universe, where the roles were reversed, maybe? I wasn't sure. All I knew is that he'll never be mine, and I'll never be his. But, the, when I look to the darker side of life, his condition was weighing heavily on my heart. I watched the rise and fall of his chest as he struggled for each breath, his once vibrant eyes now half-shut, his pale skin bearing the scars of his ordeal. It was difficult to reconcile this with the Branzy who had always been so full of life, his laughter like music and his smile like a ray of sunshine.
As I continued to sit in silence, I soon noticed Branzy beginning to stir. In that moment my eyes held hope, excitement, joy. Love, even. It grew when he muttered something that sounded far too much like 'Clown,' but all that hope, that joy, shattered when his murmurs became shouts of pleas, and begging for his life being spared. I grabbed his soft hand and sqeezed it, then shook his arm, my eyes wide. "Branzy, wake up!" I shouted, my voice trembling with desperation. "Hey, it's okay, you're safe!" I assured him, though he remained unconscious yet caught in the throes of a tormenting nightmare.
"Branzy, hey, hey, you're okay, you're gonna be okay!" I continued to speak to him, my words a desperate attempt to breach the darkness that had consumed him. I suddenly hugged him, wrapping my arms around his fragile form, and ran my calloused and scarred hand through his hair, soothingly. "Hey, you're safe, you're safe with me. Wanna know why? Because I love you," I whispered, my voice barely above a breath. After a few moments of doing this, the screaming ceased, and not long after, I heard a hoarse voice say, "Clown?"
I looked down to see Branzy's eyes half-open, with a dazed look, tears threatening to spill. The relief that washed over me was overwhelming, and I couldn't stop the tears that welled up in my own eyes. I gently brushed a tear away from his cheek, my heart aching for the pain he had endured. But yet, some how, he still looked beautiful, like an angel, a being with holy, unmatchable beauty.
"I'm here, Branzy, and I'm not going anywhere. You're safe now, I promise," I whispered, my voice filled with tenderness. "You gave us all a scare, but you're going to be okay."
Branzy blinked a few times, his gaze slowly focusing on me. His eyes, those beautiful, galaxy-like orbs, met mine, and for a moment, it felt as if the world around us had faded away, leaving just the two of us in that dimly lit room.
"Clown?" he repeated, his voice weak and raspy. "Is it really you?"
I nodded, my heart swelling with emotion. "Yeah, Branzy, it's me."
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