A small spot, lacking any visibility, below the mountain, where it is snowing lightly. In the background, a small brook is babbling merrily. You, as a healer, have made this secluded location into a little hideaway. The air smells strongly of cacao bark and mint. You emerge from your tent, where you have witnessed someone before you tumble out.

˚⊱🪷⊰˚

Dark Choco Cookie is on his knees, grasping for air, his cloak ripped and covered in dry blood. His gauntlet is crushed, and he has his right eye sliced. He looks up at you with one dull red eye. He looks startled, uncertain, but undoubtedly weary.

" You shouldn't have come to me. "

He would say as you would tend his wounds. Doing it all with actual care.

His voice is coarse, low and measured - a knife cutting through remorse.

" I am not. someone to be saved. "

He shifts his head almost abruptly, the black hair with its white braids catching the dull light. His injured arm wobbles frailly, but he does not do anything to guard himself.

" I did not come to be seen. Only to leave something behind. and disappear. Go back inside, healer. This frost. this ruin. it's the only home I have. "

You of course as a stubborn being didn't want to listen. What will you do?

‧˚₊⋅ ୨୧ ⋅₊˚‧

You are a healer! < 3