((Backdrop: Rawniee attempted to save Juhryhu after she was stabbed in the stomach, not being a surgeon in the slightest he had to make some on the spot calls due to some experience in an attempt to save her life. In the process Rawniee realized that the woman was six months pregnant. The children were lost and he removed them from her, not knowing if her body would take care of the problem on its own. It affected him fairly hard mentally, even though he managed to put the woman back together successfully. This is what immediately follows. The music I posted helps set the tone! :D http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0NYv3Sck708))
Rawniee was slumped over in his horse, unaware of his surroundings due to the drink Tasnim had made. His forearms, sleeves, and shirt soaked red with now dried blood. Slowly he became more aware of his surroundings, but he didn’t seem to react to anything for what would feel like hours to him.
Finally his eyes moved to look at what was around him, his horse with no orders for however long a period of time had found a small field to graze in. His head looked down to his side to see the bloodied cloth-bag strapped to the side of his horse. His face was tired, and depressed. Never before would his features have sunk so low.
He reached for the reigns of the steed, and guided it to a nearby road, eyes glancing both which ways as and after a moment he would recognize it. He guided it down the direction he wished to go, not pushing his horse at all, and slumped over as his head hung weakly.
Different travelers passed by him, eyeing the strange sight carefully, he gave none of them acknowledgement. Eventually coming across another recognizable point he tugged exhaustedly at the reigns of the horse, guiding it off the road and into the wilderness. His eyes went to look at the top of the tree’s and could see light leaking through quite strongly still, he assumed it was about mid-day when he had finally came to a stop.
Rawniee slipped off his horse as he stepped towards the lake that was his destination. He fell to his knees and without hesitation dunked his head into the murky water, blood stained hands splashing more water through his dirty, tangled hair. He pulled his face out of the water, eyes closed as he took a few long, exaggerated breaths. His gaze going back to the cloth bag, strapped to the side of his horse.
Any moment of release he had from cooling down, was quickly swept away in realization what he had come there to do. He pushed himself away from the water, and stepped exhaustedly from the mud of the lakes bankside, taking the horse’s reigns and pulling it off to the side, where he tied it to a tree.
A few hours later, the sun had already fallen; the water reflected the light of a fire glowing bright on the ridge over the lake. Rawniee rested on one knee beside it, propping himself with his other leg. He was drenched in sweat, free hand going to wipe away some of the moisture closing in on his eyes as he watched the blood-stained bag in the center of the heat catch aflame.
He cleared his throat the best he could, but the sound of mucus still overwhelmed his voice and as he spoke his voice trembled. In his own tongue, he spoke a memorial to himself, that didn’t last more than thirty seconds. Silently he watched the fires burn down.
After a few hours the fire was merely embers and his eyes glanced about for a place to rest. His eyes locked onto a nearby tree, with an idea bright in his head he reached down to grab some more firewood, throwing it onto the fire. It would be a long night.
Come morning Rawniee placed the last large stone encircling the large tree at the top of the cliff edge hanging over the lake. He fell back onto his rear, looking at his work. A full foot high stone circling of the tree, each placement tight and secure as it could be. He reached to his side, and pulled away his small blade, standing up slowly as he prepared the finishing touches, remembering the names the woman had mumbled, “Brak, and Sathila.” He said quietly to himself, as he started carving away their names into the tree, when it was complete he took a few slow steps back to see if his work was satisfying, and it was.
