11.Jul.13, 04:12 PM
Blinking back from the chill of between, Armath circled the forest once before the sound of a woman screaming drew his attention. Ah, yes. That was obviously M'din's location. He'd lost a sentient connection with his rider the moment he passed out, as often happened with the concussion-prone man, but wasn't overly concerned with the situation now that he understood what had transpired. A woman falling out of a tree was not worthy of the same blind fury as a woman attacking his bonded with a knife, for example, so Armath landed lazily beside M'din's body with a nonchalant, Hmf. He glanced at the shaking stranger hovering over her unintentional victim. Her overt concert for M'din's well-being was touching, but the brown could smell her fear from a mile away.
The crime scene was set: scattered redfruits, an open book, and empty bucket lay strewn beneath a broken branch, and, if the brown's nose didn't deceive him, one (or both) of the humans was bleeding. It was clear Armath would need to handle this situation on his own.
No more screaming, Redfruit Lady. We'll be all right. Sniffing at M'din's frazzled hair to locate the source of blood, Armath prodded the unconscious rider's stomach with his tail. Oops. He wasn't breathing with his face planted in the dirt like that. Armath gingerly rolled M'din on his back with a shove from his foreleg, and privately said, Wake up, buddy. You're freaking her out. M'din snorted and gasped before groggily opening his eyes, but he'd obviously need a moment to recover.
Well, good; he's not dead. The brunette seemed exceptionally frightened by the day's turn of events and, if M'din's warning was to be believed, Armath's presence exacerbated her terror. Though he didn't condone falling out of trees on to unsuspecting travelers, Armath had no desire to deepen her obvious guilt. Thank you for trying to help him, but I'm afraid my rider is hopeless. Good to know he's squishy if I ever need to land on him though, the brown mused dryly. I'm Armath. This is M'din, in case he didn't tell you. What's your name, Redfruit Lady?
The crime scene was set: scattered redfruits, an open book, and empty bucket lay strewn beneath a broken branch, and, if the brown's nose didn't deceive him, one (or both) of the humans was bleeding. It was clear Armath would need to handle this situation on his own.