Amorthon Blackwood

What's the Worst That Could Happen

Three Days Prior

‘I wish I had half of that energy….’ Amorthon glanced up from the sketch he’d been working on with a chuckle as he caught sight of Savage’s irritated huff. The tiger cub, Cibor, had been fairly well behaved for a majority of the return trip from Pandaria…though that might’ve been because he’d been asleep. Once he’d managed to fully wake up the adorable little cub turned into a rambunctious blur of white and black that the ranger had spent the rest of the trip attempting to corral, much to Savage’s amusement. As a result, the ranger had no remorse for sitting back and watching as the blur of fur climbed all over the larger tiger. “You know what they say…turnabout and all that…” He grinned at the subsequent huff before turning his attention back towards the sketch once again.

Besides returning with an unexpected extra household member, there was a slight complication he hadn’t considered. He couldn’t take the cub with him to the Broken Shore. He worried enough about taking Savage…taking the cub would just be added stress. The only solution he could think of was leaving Savage behind to watch Cibor while he went back to the front…Something he was SURE would go over well both with Andivia and with Savage. It was as though he’d never been without an animal companion…he’d gone years without on before he’d stumbled onto Savage, but he had gotten used to scouting, and fighting, with the tiger at his side. He glanced up to see Cibor finally settled and dozing against Savage’s side. Used to it or not, he had to make the choice that was best for his family…and it was just a week, maybe two. What’s the worst that could happen?

Present Day

'What’s the worst that could happen….what’s the fucking worst that could happen!? Ugh, who honestly thinks that and then DOESN’T expect the worst to happen? Besides me!?’ The ranger grit his teeth, gripping his hunting knife tightly in his right hand, his left arm hanging limply at this side, rendering the use of his bow impossible. The assignment had been simple enough. Scout ahead, mark locations that had high concentrations of enemies and return with the information. Easy, straightforward…and the first day had gone by without incident. 

Maybe he’d been overly confident, maybe he hadn’t been paying attention, regardless, while focusing on getting the location correct on his map he’d missed the approaching pack of felhounds. Or rather, he’d missed it until one, who had wandered from the pack, sank its damn teeth into his shoulder. It’d taken significant effort, but clinging the 'necessary’ information in his left hand, he’d managed to retrieve his knife from his belt, turning and dragging the weapon across the demon’s throat and causing its jaws to go slack…or just slack enough for him to pull his shoulder free and get some distance between himself and the pack.

'Focus, damn it…ignore the burn and focus. Get back to camp…Gotta be someone there that can fix this…’ He fought back a hiss as he continued moving, cautiously and deliberately, back towards the camp. ‘Come on…just a bit…further…’ His vision blurred as he finally reached familiar terrain, the burn in his shoulder intensifying. Out of morbid curiosity, he turned, sparing the burning body part a brief glance. “…Shit.” Fighting back the urge to vomit from the sign of torn skin and muscle, he continued fighting his way back, almost collapsing in front of the guards as he wracked his brain trying to think of any healers he might know. “..Ly-lynesse Gloamingdawn…need he-help.” He felt the guards grip him as his legs gave out from under him, the burning starting to move from his shoulder, and pain taking over as his vision went dark.