essea: (44.)
ɪᴏʀᴠᴇᴛʜ. ([personal profile] essea) wrote 2025-01-10 04:18 am (UTC)

[ Iorveth wants his bow back, now, but he can appreciate how sticking around to let three armed soldiers catch up with them without the element of surprise can spell disaster. His gaze swims, furious, to the two men lying prone by their feet, and slides away at the sting of that momentary touch and the vehemence with which Astarion starts dragging him in the opposite direction of the clamor.

Survival first. More than anything, they need to find someplace that will shelter them not only from the men giving chase, but from the inevitable appearance of the sun; not only have they left their pack with their tent behind, it'll be difficult for them to find any traveler willing to let two blood-splattered elves onto their caravans for safe travel.

So. Their best bet is to find a cave, or an alcove of some kind. Maybe an abandoned hut, if they're lucky. Iorveth steers them both into the direction of the forest, which he can navigate with wood elf balance and certainty; he can find sure footing on an uneven forest floor with his eye closed.

Making sure that Astarion doesn't trip over branches and get tangled in bramble is a different story, though. He sidesteps a rather nasty-looking thorned plant, and stops briefly to make sure that his partner doesn't accidentally collide into it.
]

Careful, [ he whispers, steadying Astarion with one fucked-up hand. ]

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