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The Process

Jormund's picture

"YOU STUPID USELESS PIECE OF MEAT!! MOVE, DAMN IT!"

Jormund yelled in frustration at his arm focusing on his thumb with every inch of his being trying to move it but the muscles still wouldn´t respond. It´s been a while since he started his treatment following Rhiswyn´s and the commander`s advice, he constantly visited shamans, druids and priests to treat his injured arm taking advantage of their different methods of healing, Rhiswyn also helped with her alchemy making some ointments and potions that could hasten the process.

It still wasn´t enough. He was unable to move a finger yet. His mind tried to process it as logically as he could, it had been a serious injury, he survived something that had a 99.9% kill ratio by sheer luck and will, being alive at this moment was a blessing and he should be grateful he escaped with only a damaged arm.

But it was so -FRUSTRATING-… he squeezed his fist with eyes fixed on his arm almost looking like he tried to move it telepathically. He groaned and slammed his fist on the table with such force that made most things on it jump or fall off, he moved from his seat placing his arm on a piece of cloth that hanged from his neck and went to the small bathroom to clean up then proceeded to organize the last pile of paperwork major Pinapple had sent him. That´s what Jormund needed, to work, keep his mind off the healing, the more idle he was the more frustrated he got.

And he worked lots for the past few weeks…

… and he may have been avoiding going to the Dragoons official meetings, or the Inkwell… or the Dancing Dragon…

At least his friends wouldn´t look at him with pity or treat him differently because of his injury. It´s just… he hated being like this, he felt useless for his unit, hence why he decided to help the major with all the paperwork, he also wanted to avoid screwing up anyone´s spirits with his stupid frustration over everything that was going on… he was waiting on his condition to improve, only a little, just a sign that he had a small chance of recovery.

He arranged the papers on a neat pile and quickly filed them up on different folders like the major taught him, after he finished he looked down to his arm trying to move his fingers again. 

"Of course not…" he sighed…

Chesh brushed against his leg looking up at her mother and mewled, Jormund smiled and crouched to give her a tender rub behind the ears, the panther purred.

The dog barking outside made him straighten up and look through the window. 

One bark was Yoon, maybe to see if I needed any help with the watermelons.

Two barks meant Moonöri was barging in ready to kick down the door.

… then there was three barks, that meant that Rhiswyn finally noticed his absence and was coming this way to scold him. 

… and of course it had to be three barks. 

Jormund looked at Chesh.

"Scolding it is then." he chuckled and moved to clean up his working table and place the files on a box sliding it under it, he had a lot of time to clean up so the place looked a bit more neat for visitors.

When he heard the door knock placed three watermelons on the table and before answering he took a deep breath and smiled forcing himself to bury his frustration. Rhiswyn was the last person who deserved to endure his stupid mood, she´ll find out obviously, but she was worth the try.

"Hey you." he said wrapping his healthy arm over her waist and pulling her in and gently brushing his lips over hers "You are just in time, I need some help in carving a good scary face on these watermelons for Hollow´s End." 

Deep inside he couldn´t help but to pray and hope for Rhis to just leave things be, then he shoved the thought aside and walked her to the table.

"Let´s see how good your scary faces are…"

Comments

Cerwis's picture

(( I commented on this on

(( I commented on this on Crossroads but:

Clearly he just needs a new robot arm. I'm sure Finkswitch would love to take the case! ;) ))