((http://r.weavesilk.com/?v=4&id=moxl4zle8y <--Ja'ren's current aura at this time))
((His colors are lavender, pink, yellow, dark green, light blue.))
((His colors are lavender, pink, yellow, dark green, light blue.))
~5 months later~
Ja'ren fell - seemingly tripping over nothing, and moaned softly from his spot on the ground. The boy looked sickly. Frail. Like a good gust of wind would just carry him away in its cool embrace. Red rushed to his brother's side, slowly helping him to his feet, concern written all over his face.Â
It was happening.
What Red had dreaded. Had hoped was just a trick of his mind. Or his eye. Or both. The blackness from the bracelet had infected Ja'ren - slowly worming its way into the boy's aura, as Red has taken to calling it the past few months, and looked like it was slowly choking the other colors that surrounded Ja'ren usually.
"You need to see your healer, Ja'. You're sick, please, stop coming out here to help me. You can barely stand or keep up as it is!"
Red was partially in tears, the frustration he felt at not being able to help his only friend was overwhelming. How could he stop this? Force Ja'ren to remove the bracelet? Try to pull the blackness from him by hand? He had no idea.
"I'm...fine. Just...need a breather."
Ja'ren was gasping for air, like he had just been choked or had the wind knocked out of him, but suddenly started wheezing, when...
Blood.
Red froze, eyes growing as wide as dinner plates at the sight of Ja'ren coughing up blood. That was bad. Bad. Not normal. Sick. Help. RUN. He scooped Ja'ren into his arms, ignoring any protests the, now much lighter, boy might make, and bolt to the camp as fast as he could go. Between strides, he muttered.
"BLOOD, Ja'ren! You just...blood..YOU'RE NOT FINE."
They weren't far, but suddenly the distance from the usual spot by the spring to the encampment seemed like it would never end. Red ran. And ran. Panting as he held Ja'ren to his chest, doing his best not to jostle his friend and make things worse. He only hoped the tribe would still care for Ja'ren after Red was seen carrying him. They had become very superstitious the past few years, and blamed the majority of their misfortunes on Red. Everyone claimed dark clouds followed him, and brought the bad luck with them.
Ja'ren had started to protest when Red suddenly scooped him up, but upon noticing the blood in his hand where he had coughed into it, promptly slammed his mouth shut, and let his friend carry him home. Upon arriving at the camp, he motioned for Red to put him down, but Red shook his head, and hollared at the gates for the healer to come get Ja'ren.
"OY. Gir'tiah! Ja'ren needs help! Please!"
It took a few moments, numerous guards coming to the gate suddenly to glare at Red, but a small, elderly female finally stepped out from the gate, and hobbled over to the two boys. She didn't make eye contact with Red, only motioned for him to set Ja'ren down, which he did, and she led the boy into the camp, leaving Red standing outside, looking like he didn't think he'd ever see his brother again.
Ja'ren fell - seemingly tripping over nothing, and moaned softly from his spot on the ground. The boy looked sickly. Frail. Like a good gust of wind would just carry him away in its cool embrace. Red rushed to his brother's side, slowly helping him to his feet, concern written all over his face.Â
It was happening.
What Red had dreaded. Had hoped was just a trick of his mind. Or his eye. Or both. The blackness from the bracelet had infected Ja'ren - slowly worming its way into the boy's aura, as Red has taken to calling it the past few months, and looked like it was slowly choking the other colors that surrounded Ja'ren usually.
"You need to see your healer, Ja'. You're sick, please, stop coming out here to help me. You can barely stand or keep up as it is!"
Red was partially in tears, the frustration he felt at not being able to help his only friend was overwhelming. How could he stop this? Force Ja'ren to remove the bracelet? Try to pull the blackness from him by hand? He had no idea.
"I'm...fine. Just...need a breather."
Ja'ren was gasping for air, like he had just been choked or had the wind knocked out of him, but suddenly started wheezing, when...
Blood.
Red froze, eyes growing as wide as dinner plates at the sight of Ja'ren coughing up blood. That was bad. Bad. Not normal. Sick. Help. RUN. He scooped Ja'ren into his arms, ignoring any protests the, now much lighter, boy might make, and bolt to the camp as fast as he could go. Between strides, he muttered.
"BLOOD, Ja'ren! You just...blood..YOU'RE NOT FINE."
They weren't far, but suddenly the distance from the usual spot by the spring to the encampment seemed like it would never end. Red ran. And ran. Panting as he held Ja'ren to his chest, doing his best not to jostle his friend and make things worse. He only hoped the tribe would still care for Ja'ren after Red was seen carrying him. They had become very superstitious the past few years, and blamed the majority of their misfortunes on Red. Everyone claimed dark clouds followed him, and brought the bad luck with them.
Ja'ren had started to protest when Red suddenly scooped him up, but upon noticing the blood in his hand where he had coughed into it, promptly slammed his mouth shut, and let his friend carry him home. Upon arriving at the camp, he motioned for Red to put him down, but Red shook his head, and hollared at the gates for the healer to come get Ja'ren.
"OY. Gir'tiah! Ja'ren needs help! Please!"
It took a few moments, numerous guards coming to the gate suddenly to glare at Red, but a small, elderly female finally stepped out from the gate, and hobbled over to the two boys. She didn't make eye contact with Red, only motioned for him to set Ja'ren down, which he did, and she led the boy into the camp, leaving Red standing outside, looking like he didn't think he'd ever see his brother again.
