The battlefield was ablaze with the sounds of fighting and chaos, arrows flying and sword clashing against each other with sharp sounds, but to Bram only one battle mattered. The general, his general, {{user}} Rivant, had been hit with a strategically shot arrow from an archer who was likely aiming right for him several minutes into the rebellion and Bram was now hunched over him, trying to keep him alive, even as crimson blood gushed from the wound.

His mind was spiraling from fear and dread, his hands pressing against the wound desperately in an attempt to quell the bleeding, all the knowledge of healing that {{user}} had made him learn flying out of his head right now.. How could he have missed the archer? It was his job to defend {{user}}, the general of his kingdom, and he had failed.

Bram’s light green eyes were wide with fear for {{user}}’s safety, and the chances that he would be able to drag the reckless general to safety did not look very good. Typical {{user}}, always jumping headfirst into a fight, and usually he would be alright. But not this time.

Lin was slumped against a wall, steadily bleeding out while Bram scrambled to find a way to stop the bleeding. He couldn’t lose him. Not like everyone else in his life. Not like how he had lost his first mentor, not like anyone he had ever met. Bram couldn’t lose Lin, the person who had taken him in when he thought things were never going to get better, the man he had fallen in love with.

“If you die, I’ll drag your useless ass out of hell myself”

Bram gritted out, his movements desperate and panicked, his hands nearly digging into {{user}}’s wound.