K’yohko’s fierce eyes glanced up, peering at the concerned voice that called out to him. His expression was pained and fierce. His ears stood at an odd angle, one pressing to his head in pain and the other flicked backwards with aggression. As K’nhali stood, lacking anything useful besides worthless words of conscious, K’yohko turned his head to watch K’mih’s fleeting figure. He thought darkly, he should not have trusted her with alerting the huntresses. Not that she would be unable to do it, but because she was too slow.
Again, K’yohko’s burning gaze turned to his eldest daughter. Help him to K’zhumi? Idiot child. He did not need to see K’zhumi yet. Until the camp was secured there was no time for such trivialities. Had K’ile and the outsider not lead the damned Amal’jaa to their camp, he wouldn’t be injured in the first place. But maybe that was what K’ile wanted. K’yohko would not have doubted it, and bitterly thought it was indeed what he had intended.
Yohko’s expression shifted as K’nahli pushed forward without consent, trying to aid him in holding himself up and dragging him off to the healer’s tent. Idiot child! If he had any way to move his shoulder, his fury compelled him to bat her away. But indeed his shoulder refused to let him do much more than snarl as the movement agitated its pain, and his daughter’s skin and armor pushed into the burns on his arm and side.
Just as K’yohko turned his head to snap at K’nahli, it turned instead to… K’lyrhi. The Nunh found his mouth tasting bitter and a difficulty in swallowing whenever she appeared. It was similar to staring at a ghost. Although the elders were happy to have those deemed dead returning to them, K’yohko found it abhorrent. It was as if dead bodies had rose from the sands and shambled back to the camp. Of all the bodies returning, the only one he wished to return was still buried somewhere in the Sagolii.
As K’lyhri too, pushed herself to his side to help, K’yohko snarled viciously. He bared his teeth at both K’lyhri and K’nahli before stepping forward, throwing all of his heavy weight forward to break free of the girls.
“Don’t touch me!†K’yohko snarled, his words dripping with anger and twisted in pain. He turned and glared back at the girls, violent eyes seemingly lit on fire. “Idiot children! If you do not help the huntresses secure our camp, there will not BE a healer to tend our wounds because we will all DIE to the Amal’jaa.†His breath was ragged, wheezing with intense effort. His body sagged again towards his open wounds. His other burned arm reached over and grasped at his shoulder, holding it to his body as if it might fall off. “Get your weapons and find the others.†It was not a statement, nor was it snarled like he had been just a moment before. It was a cold and furious demand that threatened something darkly in its tone.
Again, K’yohko’s burning gaze turned to his eldest daughter. Help him to K’zhumi? Idiot child. He did not need to see K’zhumi yet. Until the camp was secured there was no time for such trivialities. Had K’ile and the outsider not lead the damned Amal’jaa to their camp, he wouldn’t be injured in the first place. But maybe that was what K’ile wanted. K’yohko would not have doubted it, and bitterly thought it was indeed what he had intended.
Yohko’s expression shifted as K’nahli pushed forward without consent, trying to aid him in holding himself up and dragging him off to the healer’s tent. Idiot child! If he had any way to move his shoulder, his fury compelled him to bat her away. But indeed his shoulder refused to let him do much more than snarl as the movement agitated its pain, and his daughter’s skin and armor pushed into the burns on his arm and side.
Just as K’yohko turned his head to snap at K’nahli, it turned instead to… K’lyrhi. The Nunh found his mouth tasting bitter and a difficulty in swallowing whenever she appeared. It was similar to staring at a ghost. Although the elders were happy to have those deemed dead returning to them, K’yohko found it abhorrent. It was as if dead bodies had rose from the sands and shambled back to the camp. Of all the bodies returning, the only one he wished to return was still buried somewhere in the Sagolii.
As K’lyhri too, pushed herself to his side to help, K’yohko snarled viciously. He bared his teeth at both K’lyhri and K’nahli before stepping forward, throwing all of his heavy weight forward to break free of the girls.
“Don’t touch me!†K’yohko snarled, his words dripping with anger and twisted in pain. He turned and glared back at the girls, violent eyes seemingly lit on fire. “Idiot children! If you do not help the huntresses secure our camp, there will not BE a healer to tend our wounds because we will all DIE to the Amal’jaa.†His breath was ragged, wheezing with intense effort. His body sagged again towards his open wounds. His other burned arm reached over and grasped at his shoulder, holding it to his body as if it might fall off. “Get your weapons and find the others.†It was not a statement, nor was it snarled like he had been just a moment before. It was a cold and furious demand that threatened something darkly in its tone.
![[Image: urVhoNf.png]](http://i.imgur.com/urVhoNf.png)
