[ His gaze hones in on Vasquez, sprawled out in the dirt, and—
Once again, the bastard looks like he's been through the wringer.
Faraday winces to himself, scrubbing at the dried blood clinging to his beard and chin – though he knows there's nothing for it aside from another dunk in a river. He pushes himself up, holding his breath against the various warning flares from his various wounds – new and otherwise.
With obvious strain, ]
You look like shit.
[ Ostensibly a joke, but there's an undercurrent of genuine concern in his voice. ]
[ Which, considering everything that could have conceivably happened last night, he'll take as a win.
His hand goes to the ugly wound at the juncture between his neck and shoulder; it doesn't seem to be actively bleeding, and neither does it seem any worse than surface-level damage. ]
[ Faraday frowns all the more, looking uncertain as he traces the edge of the wound. Vasquez must've tried to take what he could from the wolf, but it clearly wasn't enough, considering his current state. The vampire's movements are slow, made with obvious effort – and considering the preternatural grace Vasquez usually exhibits, this is telling. ]
You look like you can barely move.
[ Hardly surprising, considering Vasquez looks about as sliced open as one could possibly get.
Faraday steels himself, gesturing to his neck. ]
Well, c'mon then. Hurry it up and take what you need.
[ Faraday's answering snort is definitely derisive. ]
You look like hell, Vasquez.
[ It's not as bad as the first time, Faraday is reluctant to admit, but it's still ugly. If this is how it's going to be every time, with the two of them mauling each other half to death every full moon—
Well. Faraday doesn't expect Vasquez will want to stick around for very long, if this is the course their travels are going to take. Then again, maybe Faraday is being too optimistic in assuming tonight hasn't changed the vampire's mind on riding out together from Rose Creek.
His jaw clenches at the stray thought as he tries to force it away. ]
You should've just chained it up and left it in the shed.
[ The wolf was slowed slightly by its injuries, but as the night wore on and it became more desperate and more feral, that shed would fold like a house of cards.
Vasquez scratches a few flecks of gore from his beard, shaking his head again. ]
He shifts back a little, trying to hide how difficult even that small movement is. He finds a nearby tree to lean back against and take the weight off the wounds throbbing around his chest. Ideally, he should lying down, but the concept sounds less than appealing, at the moment. ]
Maybe next time you'll damn well listen to me when I tell you to bring your guns.
[ Faraday sneers at that, frustrated beyond words. Vasquez has a point, obviously – and if Faraday's honest, they had been lucky that Vasquez was able to dig out the silver with relative ease during the battle in Rose Creek. There was every possibility that the silver might have shattered, might have broken into pieces too small and impossible to find.
He doesn't trust his future chances with another silver bullet.
He scrubs his face with both hands, taking a deep breath. ]
We're two for two on you wakin' up half-dead.
If you're there for the next full moon— [ And he's unconscious of the word choice. If, not when. ] —maybe you oughtn't follow it like you have been.
[ Vasquez breathes a rough sigh through his nose, rubbing at his forehead. Dealing with the wolf isn't easy, but he never thought it would be. It's a beast on par with his own strength, and unlike most things, it can do real damage.
The point about tailing the wolf isn't a bad one, though. ]
You want me to just let it loose? I follow so it doesn't find humans in the night.
[ He brings up his knees, resting his elbows on them as he tips his head back against the tree. ]
I've never had a minder. Used to be I'd just— scout out a place for a couple nights and hope for the best on a full moon.
[ Granted, he had no way of knowing whether or not anyone fell along his path during the night, and when the moon began to wane, he would spend a few days wondering if the lingering taste of blood on the back of his tongue was animal or human. ]
[ Vasquez's expression is somehow grateful and baleful in the same breath. ]
At least wash up. You smell.
[ And he eases down onto his back, this time without fully muffling the relieved groan as he stretches out. His shoulder throbs as he lies on it, and he's still acutely aware of the wounds, but he feels slightly less woozy when he's horizontal. ]
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no subject
Once again, the bastard looks like he's been through the wringer.
Faraday winces to himself, scrubbing at the dried blood clinging to his beard and chin – though he knows there's nothing for it aside from another dunk in a river. He pushes himself up, holding his breath against the various warning flares from his various wounds – new and otherwise.
With obvious strain, ]
You look like shit.
[ Ostensibly a joke, but there's an undercurrent of genuine concern in his voice. ]
no subject
Says the man who always looks like shit.
[ He turns his head in the grass, clearly in no rush to get up. ]
How's your leg?
[ And his everything, technically. ]
no subject
[ Which, considering everything that could have conceivably happened last night, he'll take as a win.
His hand goes to the ugly wound at the juncture between his neck and shoulder; it doesn't seem to be actively bleeding, and neither does it seem any worse than surface-level damage. ]
How bad off are you?
no subject
[ He scrubs the heel of a dirty palm over his eyes. Moving reminds him of how sore he is, and he absently marvels at the sensation.
When was the last time he was sore?
(Other than the last moon.) ]
I just need to sleep when we get back.
no subject
You look like you can barely move.
[ Hardly surprising, considering Vasquez looks about as sliced open as one could possibly get.
Faraday steels himself, gesturing to his neck. ]
Well, c'mon then. Hurry it up and take what you need.
no subject
Our deal can wait until you're not falling apart.
[ Because honestly, Faraday's energy should go towards fully recovering.
Vasquez can get blood elsewhere. ]
no subject
Then, ]
I dunno how to tell you this, hombre, but between the two of us? You're the one who looks more like a chewed-up rag doll.
no subject
Then clearly you need to look in a mirror, cabrón. I just need time to wake up.
no subject
You look like hell, Vasquez.
[ It's not as bad as the first time, Faraday is reluctant to admit, but it's still ugly. If this is how it's going to be every time, with the two of them mauling each other half to death every full moon—
Well. Faraday doesn't expect Vasquez will want to stick around for very long, if this is the course their travels are going to take. Then again, maybe Faraday is being too optimistic in assuming tonight hasn't changed the vampire's mind on riding out together from Rose Creek.
His jaw clenches at the stray thought as he tries to force it away. ]
You should've just chained it up and left it in the shed.
no subject
[ The wolf was slowed slightly by its injuries, but as the night wore on and it became more desperate and more feral, that shed would fold like a house of cards.
Vasquez scratches a few flecks of gore from his beard, shaking his head again. ]
I can get blood from something else.
no subject
Assumin' you're able to stand up, at any point.
[ Faraday, clearly, has his doubts on that front. ]
no subject
[ How dare he.
Except Vasquez readjusts to get to his feet, and—
—his arm wobbles under him.
... This is not a shining moment in his centuries of life.
Vasquez's weight falls back on his ass, and now he looks genuinely aggravated. ]
... If I wait, more will heal.
no subject
Mostly, though, he's aggravated. Angry.
(guilty)
He offers a lackluster, ]
Told ya.
[ because that's what's expected of him.
He shifts back a little, trying to hide how difficult even that small movement is. He finds a nearby tree to lean back against and take the weight off the wounds throbbing around his chest. Ideally, he should lying down, but the concept sounds less than appealing, at the moment. ]
Maybe next time you'll damn well listen to me when I tell you to bring your guns.
no subject
He casts Faraday a half-hearted glare. ]
So what? I can shoot you?
[ He waves his hand dismissively. ]
I can't leave the silver in your body, and I do not see the wolf letting me dig it back out.
no subject
He doesn't trust his future chances with another silver bullet.
He scrubs his face with both hands, taking a deep breath. ]
We're two for two on you wakin' up half-dead.
If you're there for the next full moon— [ And he's unconscious of the word choice. If, not when. ] —maybe you oughtn't follow it like you have been.
no subject
The point about tailing the wolf isn't a bad one, though. ]
You want me to just let it loose? I follow so it doesn't find humans in the night.
no subject
Hell, I dunno.
[ He brings up his knees, resting his elbows on them as he tips his head back against the tree. ]
I've never had a minder. Used to be I'd just— scout out a place for a couple nights and hope for the best on a full moon.
[ Granted, he had no way of knowing whether or not anyone fell along his path during the night, and when the moon began to wane, he would spend a few days wondering if the lingering taste of blood on the back of his tongue was animal or human. ]
no subject
Ugh.
He pinches the bridge of his nose, waving again with his free hand. ]
I don't know – maybe I watch a perimeter next time. Make sure it stays in one area and only get close if it finds people.
[ Another heavy sigh. ]
No lo sé.
no subject
Just hurry up and take your damn nap. I don't wanna stay out here any longer'n I have to.
[ Especially considering neither of them have their guns.
And, you know. That Faraday is still in the buff. ]
no subject
At least wash up. You smell.
[ And he eases down onto his back, this time without fully muffling the relieved groan as he stretches out. His shoulder throbs as he lies on it, and he's still acutely aware of the wounds, but he feels slightly less woozy when he's horizontal. ]
Como un perro mojado.
no subject
Annoying bastard.