"The damage is infectious, and all that can be done is purge it all and start from scratch."
If life is a series of choices, then perhaps that just means that life is a game? To Akazawa Saki, that's all life really is. She refutes the existence of G...
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Everything was an undeniable, horrid mess.
There was nothing more that could be said about the matter at hand.
And in that pocket of time, Obi was sure there wasn't much more that could be done, either.
Embers rose from fires lit at camp, sparks lifting from the torches and tallow candles that lined the inside of tents to illuminate the expanses within. A sense of dread hung in the air, like the acrid taint of something decaying nearby, it lingered uncomfortably with every breath.
The ex-assassin sat along the edge of the tent at Shirayuki's command, keeping watch over the unconscious woman lying in a makeshift bedroll that had been placed there for her use. Whether it was simply because Shirayuki was concerned the woman would wake up and leave if left alone, or because she just wanted someone to stay with her for the time being, he didn't know.
Not that it mattered, either which way.
Obi had some questions he wanted answers to, and he had a feeling that the unconscious woman held them. He was willing to dodge shoes or whatever else the prickly woman could throw at him if it meant getting his way. But right now, he very much doubted she would wake any time soon.
It had been a mere handful of hours since he had dragged Akazawa Saki's unconscious form away from that strange march of soldiers, and one lone hour since he had returned hauling both bloody cat and woman into the centre of camp. It was perhaps the most favorable of instances that Shirayuki and the guard had returned in lieu of a building snowstorm, for Obi wasn't entirely sure if either the maid or the cat was going to survive otherwise, if the amount of blood he was covered in by the end was anything to go by.
The woman, and possibly the cat, too, undoubtedly had the luck of the devil on their side.
They both really should be dead.
A moment later, as Obi shifted to stretch out the building knots in his back, the door of the tent flipped open as none other than Shirayuki herself came walking carefully into the tent, flecked from head to toe in white snow and touched with a remarkably pensive look across her expressive features. Within one arm was a heavily patched black feline, held carefully out of the brunt of the weather.
'How is Miss Akazawa holding up, Obi?' The court herbalist questioned once the door was secured shut again, bringing the ex-assassin to give a brief shrug before he resumed his initial stretch.
'I can't say.' Obi stated, honestly. 'She hasn't so much as made a sound.'
Not including the weak, struggling wheezes of breath through a mess of an airway passage, in any case.
Needless to say, the slight drop in Shirayuki's shoulders was enough for him to guess she was a little disheartened by his response.
'Well, I've done all I can for the cat... It seems to be okay.' Shirayuki remarked as she gently set the cat down on a folded length of treated pelt nearby the unconscious maid's form. 'What exactly happened out there?'
