Everlight Family/Elios/Piers

Elios gave a roar and lunged to his left!

This toppled the cot he was laid up on and deposited the Count of Wailing Wood face-first into the canvas wall of the healers' tent.

"Unff." he growled at the canvas and awkwardly, stiffly attempted to rotate and sit in the tight space between the overturned cot and taut fabric. Firm hands were on him in moments, lifting him to standing. His pulse rushed loudly in his ears and he looked for somewhere to sit again.

"My Lord Count! Are you alright?" Captain Honeria called out from across the tent. Elios looked up to see his stern Captain on alert--not worried, perhaps, but attentive--as much as one can be whilst half-undressed and half-bandaged, seated on a camp stool with one leg out strangely in front of her. It seemed the Count had interrupted the healer's work with his outburst.

Piers the healer was the one who had helped Elios off the floor and was now fussing with the sling Elios had dislodged, his wizened old fingers deftly rewrapping the fabric. He looked up at Elios through bushy, unkempt brows and spoke before the blond commander could reply.

"Tha's a way to wake up! Off tae your own tent now then, Milord. Three days down, by the storm ye've been fussin'. We'll 'ave food along for ye in a bit. Don't pick at yer arm none!"

So scolded, Elios was turned in the direction of the tent flap and left to do as he would while the stooped old healer got back to reviewing Honeria's injuries.

"Three... days?"

"Aye."

"Honeria, report to me when you're done here." he ordered, then departed quickly to find a privy.