Flashback We All Fall Down

[Quzon]

22nd of Summer, 502 A.V. Evening/19th Bell Raw disbelief filled Quzon as he tried to remain perfectly still. Emerald eyes staring off into the black of the night sky. He didn't want to inflict more pain upon himself than he already felt, but he wasn't sure if he could even if he tried. Quzon knew pain. Not to its full extent given his young age, not in all its facets, but he knew the pain of muscle swelling and the scream of tender nerves burning as foreign djed forced its way into his body. Compared to all the pain one could feel, hiding from a Kalean Zith who had managed to swoop down, pick him up, and drop him from a good height was not much, but he knew one thing. It could always get worse.  He'd fallen hard. His body landing onto a toppled tree within a forest clearing, luckily it had succumbed to rot and crumbled under the weight of his body; he was heavier than the average boy given his Isur heritage. The tree broke his fall only slightly. Quzon gasped for breath, huffing and groaning as the air had been knocked from his lungs. He wasn't sure how far he'd fallen, but it did hurt. Even as his body worked against him, his mind knew that he needed to act. “Move...” He thought to himself in Isur, seeing the silhouette of a winged creature in the sky. “You will die here if you don't move.” Back into it, then. Quzon sat up violently, quickly standing to his feet even if his body wished to linger on the ground. That fact that he could stand was one small victory. He took inventory of his body, contracting the muscles of each limb, checking the aches for severity. His right hand ran along his abdomen. Two of his ribs were bruised, maybe broken, the pain pressed sharply along his frame with each breath, but thankfully that seemed to be all that was wrong. He caressed his abdomen with his left arm as he started to hobble towards the tree line, he needed to get out of the clearing. His other hand began to search for his weapons. First his hand-axe on his belt. It was missing; it had fallen somewhere when the ZIth picked him up into the air. Next was the hunting knife he often kept in his boot. Gone. He'd left that in his backpack which remained at his Uncle's campsite. Lastly, his fingers reached up to caress his collar bone. And they were greeted with the loving texture of steel. The chakram he wore around his neck was still there. He removed it to hold it in his right hand. He glanced over his shoulder, kept his eyes to the sky, alert to spot any figure that might stand out against the shining stars. He saw something move against the darkness above, it disturbed his view of the stars as it circled the sky where he had initially fallen. When Quzon made it to the tree line, he hid behind the leaves of a large spruce tree. Quzon leaned himself partway to the side of if so he could try to spot the onyx figure. A thick dark trail of blood clung to his temple and streaked down his cheek, he'd not noticed it until it began to interfere with his peripheral vision. And like his blood. The winged creature came in the night. Lurking in the periphery of his awareness, waiting there for him to look its way. For him to peer into the shadows that lingered just behind his vision, that little flicker of motion that he only just caught out of the corner of his eye. It had landed. He'd not seen it do so, but there it was walking from behind a distant tree. Its wings unfurling and flapping. Quzon straightened up and turned to look at it, intending to show the beast that he would not be easy prey. His left hand fell from nursing his abdomen to remain at his side, his palm open. He was adapt in the use of Reimancy. He prepared himself to cast, not emitting res. But focused his mind. With the prospect of death so imminent, it ironically cleared his mind of distractions. He inhaled lightly, making slow but controlled shallow breaths. Only taking in enough air to keep the pain in his ribs from biting. The Zith growled in the back of its throat. It stood legs wide, clawed hands at the level of its hips, eyes bright. It had no weapon, but from what Quzon could see, the creature claws could be enough to flay skin from bone. He raised his hand to point the blade of his chakram at the beast. His eyes narrowing as he spoke towards it in Isur. His tone filled with lethal intent. "You caught be by surprise. Cheep move, but I will not run or flee. You started this fight. Now, one of us will die today." He moved to his side, shifting slowly along the edge of the clearing, staying just within the tree line. The Zith appeared to do the same, however it moved further into the clearing. It wished to be in a position that may allowed it to take to the sky if needed. It waited, watching Quzon. Waiting to see if he'd run or fight. It hoped for a chase. Summoning his courage, Quzon stepped further into the clearing. There would be no chase.