red sky at morning BY Carasson

Glad they could agree on something as morbidly straightforward as that. Honestly he didn't know he could trust himself with something like blood magic if he was losing so much of his time to these voids. Blood magic had the tendency to lead down a dark path if the mage wasn't diligent. That or had the tendency to hand out open invitations to many an ill-gotten spirit or demon. Adept as he was in the practice, he knew the limits. At least he thought he did. He'd never let it get to the point of summoning. He raked his brain....and nothing. Void upon void. I troubled him deeply and he was only just coming to the realization how much of an issue this could become. 

When their fingers entwined, Cara mightve sworn he felt the slightest bit of apprehension were it not for his own immense wave of relief, drowning everything out. His body hurt just as he could see how badly Chip was hurting. There was little doubt his outward experience compared to what he felt inside because he felt the same. It hurt to breath, to talk, to move, to exist. Chip you should, he groaned allowed with pain as he sat up to his knees but willed himself to continue. You should....sit up. Don't, grimace, Fall asleep. 

But as if in direct disobedience to his own words, his eyes fluttered shut. Though it was only to relish all the more in the tender caress of his cheek. He reached up to lay his hand over Chip's, eyes looking up with a pleading expressing, almost hopeful. Chip looked terrible but what was worse was that.....he just didn't look right. Despite his body being a ruined blood mess, something about all of this felt very wrong. I'm okay. He lied, confirming Chip's words. 

That hand on his cheek he would tug at gently and if Chip allowed it, he would press a kiss to a palm. It'll be alright. He lied again.