Bastian looked back at Hydrangea and their eyes met, both were wide in shock. Her question still lingered in the air and he had yet to answer.
"What was that?" She reiterated. He opened his mouth to answer but instead Ariston's voice sounded.
"Where did the soldiers go?" He asked, appearing from beyond the trees.
Bastian pulled the reins so he was facing Ariston, he could feel Hydrangea peeking out. Her arms relaxing and tightening around his waist.
"Y-you didn't see?" Hydrangea asked from behind him and Ariston shook his head, "They can't just have disappeared." He said in exasperation.
Bastian nodded in agreement, "I-I wouldn't know where they went, we turned 'round and they were gone."
Hydrangea nodded eagerly in assent.
Ariston swivelled his head around as he looked everywhere surrounding the bridge, "You have absolutely no idea where they went?"
Both shook their heads, mimicking the shock and confusion that was on Ariston's features.
Ariston threw one last glance then moved on. Bastian felt Hydrangea relax and he did the same. Both said nothing further on the incident and Hydrangea's question had still not been answered.
They arrived at the small village just after sunset. As they walked through the village they took not of the pack of people, a few carts were laid to rest, all of the shutters of the small houses were shut. The roads were muddy with cobblestone peeking up every couple steps, clumps of yellowed grass sprouted in uneven patterns along the dark road.
Reaching the outskirts of the village where only a few cottages and sheds were placed they settled down.
Ariston was kind enough to set up the tents and start the fire. Bastian and Hydrangea in the meantime both had to tend to their wounds.
Hydrangea took a handkerchief and dumped it in some water—from a nearby stream—and she pressed it to her head. He watched as she winced and then winced again as the previous action had caused her more pain.
After watching her attempt this torture three times he reached up and asked in as gentle a voice as he could manage, "Let me help."
She narrowed her eyes and shifted away then she nodded. With a hesitant hand she handed him the handkerchief. He held the back of her head as he dabbed at the dried blood. He could see that she'd lost quite a bit, her hair was slightly saturated by the liquid and it had dropped down to her jaw.
He remembered when they'd previously ran from the soldiers in Waxingville. He'd been sliced by an arrow and Brigitte had helped him. He repeated what she'd done and dipped the cloth back in the water. Wringing out the liquid he continued in helping Hydrangea.
She remained quiet the entire time, her grey eyes staring listlessly at the flame. Ariston had already retired to his tent after tying the two remaining stallions.
Once he'd finished with cleaning her wound she'd pulled out some white bandages and wrapped it around her head. He helped her to straighten it.
Then he, thinking that he might as well clean his wound, began to clean the handkerchief.
"No, wait, I'll get you a new one." She said quietly and got up to walk to the horses. She returned with two white articles; a shirt and a handkerchief.
He looked at the shirt then at his arm and realized just how much blood he had lost. He hastily removed his soiled shirt and began to clean his wound, but he couldn't see the back of his arm and try as he might, he could not reach it.
He looked up at Hydrangea and couldn't help the lazy smirk that appeared on his face. Her cheeks were red and she was staring at the ground intently.
"Could you help me?" He asked, watching as a look of panic almost surge in her eyes. He enjoyed how when she wasn't paying attention her eyes were windows to her emotions.
She nodded and mumbled, "Alright."
She sat down in the same place as before and he handed her the handkerchief. She dipped it in the water and delicately began to clean his wound. He could tell that it was definitely deeper than that cut he'd received in Waxingville.
He hissed when she prodded at it, "Stay still." She ordered as she placed her hand on his upper arm. He was shocked that she would touch him so willingly. But he then saw how concentrated her eyes were as she cleaned his wound.
He ground his teeth as she started to open it, "What are you digging in there for?" He asked, doing his best to refrain from yelling.
"I'm trying to help you." She said in a calm tone, "There is something in here and I assume you don't want it to stay?" She asked.
He clenched his fists as she continued to painfully try to help him, "No." He spat out with difficulty.
Just as he felt he was nearing his breaking point he could feel something being pulled from his arm.
"Hah!" She exclaimed proudly as she held a piece of spear in her fingers, covered with blood and three inches long. He rolled his eyes and reached for his shirt, "You can't put that on yet, we-"
"Oh?" He interrupted and her cheeks blushed, "And why not? Do you enjoy seeing…?" He left the question in the air to see her reaction.
As it was to be expected she got angry, "That is not why I told you to leave it-to not-Just-!" She let out an exasperated sigh, "I need to put a bandage on first."
He laughed heartily at her reaction to which she glared daggers at him. He waved his hand and said, "Alright then, please do."
Without meeting his eyes she wrapped a broad strip of fabric over his bicep; the spear had struck him at an oblique angle.
As Hydrangea began to tidy up the camp he watched her. He was a little concerned about her head wound, she'd lost quite a bit of blood and it could possibly scar. He shrugged it off, he wouldn't care if she scarred, but would she? He put on his shirt and began to help put their belongings away.
After they finished with clearing up the camp he laid down in the tent, Hydrangea next to him.
His mind flashed to that morning when Samadur had clearly saved them. He couldn't believe it, the Great Primal had actually shown himself, and somehow Ariston hadn't seen it.
As he puzzled over these things his eyelids began to droop and they opened to see a white, endless plane of water.