Re: dual narratives: man on the run
Steel eyes widened at the plea for help, and hesitation was flung aside when Claire immediately jumped into action. She had never seen him around town before, not to her knowledge, but blood loss and darkness could have been playing tricks with her eyes. Who he was did not matter with the severity of his injuries nor with the fear that had twisted young features in a way that none should ever experience. Perhaps it was more merciful if he was unconscious than to deal with what had led him to cross paths with Claire.
What was his name? What had happened to him? Where was he going? Who injured him? These were questions that could not be answered in the moment as she hoisted the body over her shoulders into a fireman's carry with a strength that a woman her size should not possess. There was a moment of consideration where Claire debated taking the man to the hospital. That moment was severed from possibility when the breeze clawed at ancient blood in her veins to warn her of the incoming storm, unfettered and in search of a place to strike.
Danger tainted the air with rot, thick as burn of bile in her throat. The wind shifted in warning and moonlight illuminated a pathway to safety from the incoming hunt. Glitter boots thumped with the weight of both bodies for all of three steps as she started down divinely offered trail, and then they were wrapped in a void of silence that cloaked both Claire and the injured man from being followed. Evidence of footprints faded impossibly fast in their wake while even the lingering smell of Church dissipated into the chill that rolled through the town. Something terrible was coming for the man draped over her shoulders and that need to protect made her pace hustle faster and faster until it was a full blown run that pushed aside any discomfort that may have pierced through adrenaline rush.
Nothing could harm them in her home. They would be safe there.