31_days | [Nov 21st] [original] Waiting

Title: Waiting
Day/Theme: 21. a single cobweb stretched over the nearest window
Series: Original : The tragic adventures of Iridian and Mirdre
Character/Pairing: Iridian Frostmane, Solon
Rating: PG-13

”How long?” Iridian asked Solon.

He was hurting,the gunshot wound in his shoulder still throbbing with an insistent dull ache. He was shivering, the cold stone against his back damn and chilly. His long unbound icy blonde hair was hanging in limp dangled strands down his back, every grime known to man attached to it. Even Iridian's knee length duster didn't seem to keep the cold away. He hoped his wound wasn't making him go into shock, which would have explained the shivers. But it had been too long ago, yet all too fresh.

It seemed that they had already spent an eternity in the age-old mausoleum somewhere near the Woods of Nelryel. Iridian wanted nothing than the get as far away as he could from where he was now.

Everyone knew that the surroundings of Nelryel were zombie-territory. They were right smack in the middle of it.

Solon scoffed, standing by the door. Dark hair and dark clothes, the very picture of a ruthless mercenary, who almost had Iridian right where he wanted now. Iridian could see the lust in the man's eyes as Solon looked at him, it seemed obscene in the circumstances. Solon was ostencibly looking out, a loaded shotgun in one hand, aiming the barrel right out between the broken frame of one of the four frames which made one big window. “Not long, we need to get out of here asap.”

Iridian grunted, having moved his arm, which had made pain shoot up right down from his wound to his fingertips. He was getting antsy. He threw Solon a hate-filled glance, the treacherous mercenary was not one of his favorite people right at this moment. “I know, just wish we didn't need to be at this damned cemetery, is all.”

The mercenary's gun disturbed some gossamer cobweb in the wrought iron window panel. “Well, didn't say it was the most perfect spot ever to rest up, now did I, princess?”

“We can't stay here forever,” Iridian retorted. “We gotta go!”

“We'll go when I say we go,” Solon snapped, “don't forget I have a hold on you, Iridian.”

The bracelet around Iridian's wrist seemed to get hotter for a moment, an almost fiery brand around his pale skinny arm. He hissed. And resigned to his fate. They'd do as Solon said. As long as the bracelet stayed on, that was.