Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-3293219-20140210211511/@comment-24449631-20140215172749

Boreau had been walking the entire early morning at the same pace. Keeping his hands away from his body and not moving them. the open wound was hurting like oblivion. He wheezed with every step he took.

At least he was inside Skyrim now. Only problem was he had no idea where he was. The sun had started to rise but the Reach was a foggy and barren wasteland of rocks and dry plants. The air felt murky.

''Markarth should be here... somewhere!''

Boreau looked around. careful not to hit any of the bushes that lay infront of him. He needed to find a road first. But before he did he just couldn't take the itching pain any longer.

''gah! Be a man boreau, you can do this''

He stopped and slowely looked at his hands. And saw the peels of flesh flap on his palm, covered in the red colour of his blood. The blood on his fingers that weren't cut open had already dried. And made them feel sticky. He slowly closed his hand a bit. It burned, not as hard as he think it would, but still hurt.

And he whispered a resoration spell in his head.

He looked as the small pebbles, twigs and other filth were pushed out of the wound. This however, did hurt like a lot more. And he let out a moan of pain.

This will be good enough for now.