~ Third Person's Point of View ~
The day was brighter and hotter. Yet, Lothor was using torches and fire to light up the place.
He let Belor lay into the bed as he boiled water to wash his wounds. There was also herbals that would help to mend the flaws he got.
"Let us wait for this to simmer, Belor."
"You... you don't have to do it."
Lothor shook his head back and forth upon listening to the pain he was enduring. He looked at him and open his mouth but haven't said anything.
Thus, Belor knew that he wasn't meant to be dead yet. As he can remember, the wind was not strong that night.
From the atmosphere, he could listen to his loud heartbeats. Like he forgot to breathe as least.
Every time he reminiscent, Belor felt unfortunate as he never expected to jump off into a high natural resource.
