faithbound. [marquis & Earinor]

Azrael let Ignatius through who put his hand on the wall and sure enough it opened up. It seemed like they were in there a whole day, a whole day without food or water. As they stepped out the door closed behind them. "It doesn't look anyone had been here in a while.", he pointed out, there were dusty surfaces everywhere, undisturbed. "Let me look around a bit, you can wait here." Azrael wandered off to check out the rooms. There was one with a few beds in it, a bigger one with a fireplace and one that looked like a storage room. The storage had nothing to offer but rotten vegetables and some wine. The fireplace was empty, for now Azrael threw the torch in there, since they didn't need it anymore and he didn't want to carry it around. "It doesn't seem like anyone knows of this place either. We should spend the night, at least we have somewhat of a roof. There are some beds over there if you want to lie down. I'll take a look around outside. Maybe I'll find us some food and water."

With that he already made his way to the door of this place, a rotten wooden one that looked like it would disintegrate any minute, but it held up when Azrael opened it up and closed it behind him. Vegetation was growing all around and inside the little hut and it was clear nobody had gone here. Azrael had to fight himself through some bushes first, then found himself in some woods. The trees stood tight, so he wasn't able to see the monestary or any other landmark like this, but for now he didn't care much. Ignatius could provide water, or they could trink the wine if they had to, but he still wanted to look around for a bit, maybe he found a stream or something. He also grabbed some branches here and there, building a few traps a bit away from the hut. Maybe today they wouldn't have dinner, but in the morning maybe they were lucky and could cook before they left. Azrael preferred to cook in the mornings anyway, simply because he didn't want the smoke or smell alerting demons to their location at night, it was saver during the day, though if he caught something now maybe they had enough time. He enjoyed being alone for a bit, not that Ignatius company had been particularily terrible today, but he wasn't used to that much company. He didn't have much luck in the water department, but he gathered some herbs on the way and setup for the night. He found some easable berries as well. He ate some right away and brought some for Ignatius as well. His traps were still empty, which he expected, but it grew darker by the minute, night was slowly setting in, so Azrael hurried back to the hut for now to deliver the berries at least.

Spent like never before, Ignatius let loose of a terribly loud sigh. His hands were soon stemmed in his hips and he sneezed, as if his body hadn't been put through the wringer for long enough already, he was coughing too, and before he could tell Azrael to stay with him and take his time resting as well, but he was off already, doing god knew what to actually find them something edible. Fine, then - he had had the chance to look around, and the moment he was out the door, Ignatius found the first chair he could to sit down a bit. Like this, he felt useless - and he was. Selfdoubt was no salvation, much like any sort of hurt wasn't, but his feet felt like they were about to fall off, and his body yearned to be laid to rest for the night, but his mind was racing in differing directions, trying to find an excuse to not simply rest but move and make himself useful, too. For Az, he'd probably be in the way, but Ignatius knew that now that he was alone for once - basking in the glory of silence for a short respite - it was best if he could actually prove himself to the hunter and convince him of his mission, lest he'd run off at the next chance he got.

As he got up again, Ignatius' legs felt like they were going to incite a revolution against him, simply for daring to try and put any sort of weight on them again. It happened to the best of them, didn't it? To be exhausted was another virtue he'd have to learn how to deal with, but for now, he was fine with it - just right now, at least, when he trudged over to the storage room Azrael had looked into earlier, then done nothing with. Ignatius saw rotten vegetables and bottles of wine, but not much else, so he got to work with what he had - he was exhausted, and his magic capabilities were somewhat diminished, but if they wanted to refill any of that, they better ate right now, lest they found themselves starved for choice down the road. As healing worked on bruises, it was nothing but a reversal of time, and on rotten vegetables, a storage chockful of them no less, it worked equally the same; Ignatius simply had to know when to stop, and thus he did - it was exhausting work nonetheless, but it was easier than to heal a bunch of bleeding injuries, or even just a single cut. The vegetables were restored just fine, and to test the theory, Ignatius grabbed one of the carrots and bit into it - just fine, but it didn't leave him any less exhausted. Azraels return was swift, but Ignatius hadn't sat idly by and transferred some of the vegetables on the kitchen table - he grinned. "We have food ... oh! You have food, too!"

When Azrael came back Ignatius was still on his feet and not only that, next to him on the kitchen table was food. "Where did you find that?", he asked confused, but for now placed the berries on the table as well. Ignatius didn't expect a cooked meal, did he? The woods were quite thick here, but first of all, Azrael wasn't sure if this huts chimney was in tact at all and second, he didn't want smoke alert anyone to their location. They couldn't be too far off the burning monastery and the vampire might have been after them still as well. Besides, for a stew or something akin to that they needed water, which they didn't have. "I didn't find any water nearby, there was wine in the storage over there, that's probably the best we have.", he informed Ignatius and finally let himself fall on one of the chairs. He sighed, leaning back for a moment and stretching his legs that needed a bit of a break after all this.

"I set some traps too, tomorrow we can have some breakfast I hope." Maybe a bunny, or rat or lizard, something would surely be caught by morning. Whether they could cook it inside or made a fire outside somewhere didn't matter right now. After a moment of just resting in silence, Azrael got out of his coat and hung it over the chair he sat on. Next he took another look at the vegetables and grabbed two tomatos, one of which he jugged over to Ignatius. "That'll hydrate us at least a little bit. I'm sure we'll find some water tomorrow. The monestary can't be far and it most likely had a water source nearby. And then..." Azrael sighed again stretching his back now too. "Well we'll have to figure out where we are I guess. Maybe we find a way out of these woods, or I'll find a suitable tree to climb on. A settlement to restock should be our goal and then...well..." Azrael hadn't decided yet if he wanted to do this journey, but either way, only Ignatius knew their destination. It was getting dark too, soon they'd have no light left in here, so Azrael stood up again to secure the entrance before that happened, all the windows too.

That question, naturally, cropped up first and he could not - and would not - be able to blame this man for his skepticism. "I used a bit of magic on the rotten food, it's just like a healing spell. Means it's fine to eat, too.", he elaborated his tactic and eyed the berries. Was he in the mood for something tangy and sweet? Not right now, so he was fine with the tomato he was being tossed; he took a hearty bite out of it, spilling the juice over his hands, which was fine anyway. "I can turn it into water if you want some, or just pull it out of the air. We should drink something either way." A solid suggestion from a man that, often times, had the worst of ideas, didn't he? Ignatius was a saint in name, not in existence, and even still, he wasn't venerated as one yet, the reason of which was that he was wholly alive at the moment, still in flesh, and needing some food every now and then, when he felt like he had used too many of his reserves. Who, if not him, would save this dying world? Azrael could try, but he'd only make a dent in the demon population and then die, miserably.

"Thank you ... alternatively, we can always make a stew or some soup out of this. It won't be creamy without milk, but we can't be picky anyway." Some meat would be delightful, but it wasn't much of a necessity in the first place. With the way he talked, at least, Azrael sounded thirsty and now that he finally sat down, and Ignatius wiped the tomato juice off on his own pants, he looked at the other man. "You're thirsty, then?" One word and he'd give him something to drink, alright, they didn't need to wait until tomorrow to go out there - but every moment of respite seemed to be shortlived with someone like Azrael around, who quickly got back upon his feet and pranced around to make this place more secure than it already was. The way this place looked, nobody ventured here, no monster or demon, and efen if they did, they most likely failed to get inside - Ignatius had an idea as to why, but he kept quiet for now. "Hm, maybe I can gauge the distance from here to the monastery by recounting our steps. I'll have an answer for you come morning, how's that sound?" He grabbed another carrot to nibble on, then watched Az intendly as he moved and dragged things around. "Do you want help?", he offered himself up.

"You shouldn't overuse your magic for things like that... what about your own wounds?", Azrael asked with a short sigh. Ignatius meant well and he was weird. On one hand he was arrogant and self serving and on the other he seemed to love to be the martyr he was raised to be. However there wouldn't be any saving the world if he didn't even make it to his destination. Food was somewhat important, but they'd have something filling by tomorrow, Azrael was sure of that. They needed water more so. "We should.", Azrael agreed. He was positive they'd find some water tomorrow, but more than a whole day without water was already not great. They both needed some hydration and a few tomatoes only did so much to help that. It was better than nothing however. Even the wine was better, but Azrael usually stayed away from any alcohol, he didn't like to be less aware and less reliable, after all he could only rely on himself.

"Yeah I guess, but today I don't want to make a fire anymore. For once we might have shaken anyone off that might search for us, Id rather not have anyone find us here.", he explained his reasoning. "Are you not? We haven't had anything to drink since last night." Ignatius was probably thirsty too, but he only asked so he could make himself useful, didn't he? "I can wait until tomorrow though.", he let him know quickly. "It's probably enough to know the direction we have to had in next and you know the surroundings right? If the X was east, we followed down the staircase north, but it was winding at parts, there is no way of us to know where we ended up." No landmarks in their either, no sun, no stars. "No I'm almost done." The place was securen in no time, most importanly some demon alerts he usually put up too, he left some outside as well before he went back inside previously. "We should rest soon. Maybe we find some unrotten blankets somewhere." They could take them too, since they lost their sleeping bags as well, if they found some that weren't falling apart.

"They are fine. Sure, they're mostly annoying, but I can deal with them ... besides, if I starve I won't have magic to heal either of us.", Ignatius made clear and in the grand scheme of things, this was still about the two of them, rather than each one of them individually - if they had a full stomach, they had a full days work cut out for them, but that work wouldn't lessen itself simply because they decided they didn't want any of this anymore. Sometimes, these things were sad, but other times, that was just how it was, without much room for error. "I'll turn wine into water then, or something of the sort.", he declared, and he knew that it would not be the best way of going about this, but did they have another choice? There were no glasses or cups around, and foisting a beam of water upon Azraels face was something he could live without for now. After all, Ignatius was nothing more than a pretentious prick at times, and inebriated with the power he held, but that didn't mean he didn't care for others, and much less did it mean that he wouldn't be inclined to at least try, for the sake of making things just about the slightest bit right.

"Nobody says you need to, we have a vegetables and berries that are fine to eat without cooking - sure, they might not taste as good as they would in a nice stew when they're raw like this, but it's better than having nothing, or attracting that vampire." Or an army of demons that was out to flay him from flank to flank, from front to back, just to see their ideal reality realized by themselves. Ignatius was thankful for Azraels guidance. "I'm fine, mostly. Sure, I would say I'm the slightest bit parched, but I'm used to depriving myself of things." Another virtue that came with the way they had raised him, and another thing that he was somewhat bad at. To endure was to win, and to win was to make things right, but even then, there was hardly a moment at which he felt at odds. "Hm, you aren't wrong I suppose. This stuff is sort of tricky." When was it not? Ignatius wasn't having fun like this, not when he could simply avoid doing anything of the sort at all at times. "Alright." Without waiting for a reply, he had gotten up and walked over to the storage, brought about the wine without asking and the contents of the bottle, dark and stained by the green hue, turned translucent in no time at all. All of this was not hard, yet, it wasn't without a price to pay. "Here.", he told Az, handing him the bottle, as if he expected him to revel in a drunken stupor of sorts. "Agreed ... I'll have a look. It doesn't seem that old, maybe they have some in a shelf in the bedroom. Well, either way, a bed beats the hard dirt ground in a forest, I'd argue." With that, he pranced off into the rest of the narrow hut, looking for what they were after.

"Neither of us will starve after only one day without food. I set traps outside, we'll have something by morning we can grill over a fire.", Azrael sighed somewhat annoyed. "Look, I know this is all new to you, but that's even more reason to trust in my judgement. I've survived out here until now, haven't I?" Ignatius was overestimating himself again. Azrael knew what to expect from his own body and he knew how to decide priorities out here. Over all these years he new his limits and capabilities. Ignatius didn't and likewise did Azrael not know how much he could take. He'd have had less of a problem with more of his magic, if he hadn't needlessly used it before, but here they were. If it was Azrael alone, he probably had gone on a bit more outside, but without knowing if there was any danger lurking, he didn't want to leave him by himself. He somewhat appreciated Ignatius attempts to help, but that was worth nothing if Azrael had to subsequently drag him through the woods because he was too tired. It was already a struggle to move at a steady pace with him and their horse was gone now.

"Well thanks for your reassurance...", Azrael grumbled, after all he wasn't the one who kept talking about stew, Ignatius was and Azrael told him that right now that was off the table if he was able to call the shots. "Do you usually wander about the whole day when you do?" This was a rehtoric question, Azrael was pretty sure he knew the answer. If Ignatius was feasting or whatever, he probably didnÄt ascend hundred of stairs as well. This was a different situation. As Azrael turned around after setting up everything to his liking, Ignatius stood there with a bottle of wine that was now not that anymore. "For fucks sake, are you even listening to me?" His motivation to help Ignatius get anywhere was almost gone again. How was he supposed to get him through this, when he ignored everything Azrael said? It was stuoid to waste it now, so he drank half of it, then waltzed after Ignatius, simply grabbed him and somewhat harshly flung him on one of the beds. Then he forced the bottle in his hand. "Drink, then shut up and sleep." He had enough of babysitting him. Instead Azrael looked around some more himself and eventually threw the blanket he found next to him on the bed.

He was listening, alright, but it was in one ear and out the other. "I'm going to be fine.", he assured Azrael as the bottle was foisted back upon him in a fit of incompetence-borne rage, and Ignatius was more than convinced that this man had too much of a short fuse to ever make it far in life. What if he got annoyed at the fighting tactics of some demons and then had an outburst? Sometimes, that sort of stuff was possible, even if it sounded especially ridiculous right now - but did it matter? "You survived until now, and I value you for that." Which was a compliment that no other statement followed, yet, an annoyed man would always turn something like this into something worse, and could he really blame this man? Ignatius was convinced that it held no power over him, the sway of emotions that held other humans in their grasp, but he also was convinced that at times, it just happened, painfully and obviously fast, because it was the easiest method to acquire just about anything at times. "I don't, but I don't have to tell you that, you probably already know. In fact, I keep as still as I can, and it's not just a day.", he snorted, amused by the prospect of all of this. Who wouldn't be?

Ignatius knew, for better or worse, that he held about as much weight in their decisions as a toddler would in their parents decision on what they'd serve as dinner that night, but it was worth a try regardless, wasn't it? The only core difference, after all, was that he had to convince himself that any of this was going to lead somewhere and that, without a doubt in recent memory, it would help with what they were doing after all. "Alright, alright. Good night." Just like he was told, he had a fill of his bottle and drank some, knowing that it would only get him so far in the long run - he finished it up, then kicked off his shoes and grabbed a blanket from one of the shelves before he turned in for the night, not without sneezing and coughing. At first, he'd figured he could handle this, but the wave of tiredness and dissatisfaction that washed over him welcomed him like a blanket, deep and dark, and pulled him down under, even with the old mattress and the few basic necessities that he had to himself. Was this everything? Maybe, but perhaps this was also all that he could think about in the long run. His night was uneventful as could be, no visions or crushing headaches, but come morning, he felt energized - very much so, in fact, and he grinned about it, even. Az already seemed to be up, too, so he slipped in his boots and stretched - Ignatius felt fatigued, at least bodily, but his mind was sound, and that meant he could get rid of the rest of their injuries, too.

Azrael was done for the night and he lay down himself on the bed furtest away from Ignatius. It took him a bit to fall asleep and his night was a shirt one, which wasn't uncommon for him. Whether it was the fires in the monastery or the talk about his past, he dreamt of that night and therefor woke up early. The sun only started to rise when he left the bed. He decided to check on the traps, which yielded some good results. He made a fire outside, because he didn't trust the chimney and started to gut the two rabbits he caught. While they were set up to grill through, he went inside again looking into more cupboards to find a backpack they could use. He took one other wine bottle and emptied it out, so they'd have something to carry water with in case they found any and already placed it inside. He found some rope which he cut into long enough pieces to extend the backpack and have a way to take two of the blankets with them as well.

He got out his knife and cut up the rest of the vegetables too, grilling them as well. He found two cups and a pot, but they didn't have any water right now, so he just put those in the backpack as well. Vegetables were as good grilled and the meat was plenty, so they could take some of it with them to eat later as well. One all of that was done he grabbed the herbs he collected yesterday too and ground them up. After he filled them in different vials and sacks for later use. In the hut was some more useful stuff, flint and stone and a whetstone. All that he deemed useful was put in the backpack and the whetstone was used right away to sharpen his sword and knives. He'd done a fair bit of fighting since the last time he sharpened it. Eventually he already ate some when it was done, before Ignatius decided to get out of bed as well. Once he did, Azrael was already done and ready to go, but there was still plenty of food for Ignatius left.

Rubbing the sand out of his eyes, Ignatius was happy to finally get a move on and make his way out of the hut and really, truly breathe in some fresh air - it was already quite late for morning when he had gotten up, and sometimes Ignatius wished it wasn't like this, so he could best someone like Azrael even at times like these. Wasn't this worth some sort of friendly competition at least? "Good morning.", he mumbled upon spotting Az and let his eyes wander over the display this man had made for them - it wasn't necessarily something fancy, but it was something nonetheless and Ignatius was happy about having fresh food, which meant that ... he had put in a lot of effort into all of this, and now he felt bad for treating his own body like it was expendable yesterday, just to give Azrael more of a burden with everything that he did. Upon his realization, his head hung low for a bit, then he gave the hunter a small smile. "How did you sleep?", he inquired once more, like a daily ritual, and instead of praying for his meal, simply sat himself and eyed what he'd been given, with shame written across his face like a beaten dog.

"I'm sorry for causing you trouble, and thank you for the meal." With that, he dug in, not much less starved than his entire demeanor would let anyone assume that he was, but the hunger pangs that had been knocking at his door were so easily ignored right about now, it would be a lie to say that it didn't hurt his pride that he failed himself in every aspect. "What have I missed?", he asked inbetween bites, trying to stay polite, and wondered where the nearest, intact town could be from here. If they were to wander north, surely there would be someplace, but it also didn't mean that they were still on-track to meet Ignatius' goal in the first place. Many times he'd have to bear this burden and right now, this was one of them, as much as he hated to admit it in the first place. His food was gone in no time, and then, as he eyed Az, he simply nodded. "How's your arm? I am feeling much better today than I did yesterday, well rested, even. Do you need more healing?" Another mile long track wouldn't help either of them like this, but he knew that he'd rather spend his time doing things proper than to knock them over and waste even the smallest of their ressources. "Do you need help carrying?" He had the box right here, but everything else?

Azrael didn't say anything when Ignatius came out and helped himself to some food as well. He didn't feel like conversing with him at all, he just wanted to leave as soon as Ignatius was done with his breakfast. Assuming he wouldn't eat more than what Azrael left of the first rabbit, Azrael started to pack up the rest with what he had. They could eat that for lunch later, or whenever they were hungry, as well as some of the vegetables. He put it in the pot so it wouldn't get too dirty, that was the best he could do with what they had right now. When they found some water they could wash their clothes and themselves and would have some clean cloths to wrap food with, but right now they didn't. They were dusty and even some soot clung to both of them from both the fire and the torch in close proximity in the passage. Azrael didn't sleep particularily bad, but he didn't want to dwell on it and so he just didn't answer. Most of what the priest said infuriated him, maybe not talking at all was the better play.

"My arm's fine.", Azrael answered. The wound mostly closed up before he pulled away, it wasn't more than a scratch at this point. He had some bigger problems, but even his bruised body would heal on its own. Azrael was stubborn as well and he didn't want Ignatius help when he didn't need it. He'd had it rougher before and he was able to fight like this, that was all that was needed. Ignatius was better off fixing his hand of which half was missing. It was like Ignatius didn't even notice or care. Another form of entitlement Azrael supposed, being sure he could heal whatever anyway and it would not be an issue. "No.", he answered Ignatius question of carrying the backpack. The priest was slow as he was right now too, it would be dumb to let him carry anything, when he mostly couldn't match Azraels pace anyway. "We'll leave as soon as you are done eating." The hunter put out the fire now too, he only kept it going to keep the meat warm until Ignatius was awake. They didn't need it anymore.

There was an eerie silence between them and Ignatius didn't like it. Had he done something wrong? Sure, he had managed to piss this man off yesterday but for him to actually be so pearl-clutching about the issue it felt like there had to be something else in the air; he wasn't a fan of that, much less was he happy about the ordeal that was transpiring at the very moment. Scarving down the breakfast, he was silent otherwise, and simply nodded as Azrael was being rough as usual - maybe they had, indeed, talked too much the past few days and none of this should have happened in the first place anyway. Why only the two of them? Maybe he had been too close for comfort. "I'm glad." If you need anything, don't hesitate to tell me, he wanted to blur out, but Ignatius knew that just by Azraels body language, maybe he should simply shut up and keep todays interactions as curt and starved as possible. "Alright." That didn't bother him, then. If Azrael wanted to carry this stuff, he could, and if he had nothing else to heal, he could at least take care of his own ribs and that stupid hand.

The moment he finished his food, he was back at it again, springing up from where he sat and then looking at Azrael for a second. "One moment, then." With that, he held the injured hand in the other, flinching ever so slightly at the contact that those two made, before he pulled about a whole hand again and touched those ribs of his, fixing even that. Now he was good to go, and there was a bit of a pep in his step as well - the fire was out and the sun was shining, even through the thick foliage of the forest. "I'm ready." That was apparently enough for the two of them to start trudging off into a direction unknown to either of them - it wasn't a nice journey on-foot, in fact, it became ever more apparent that he was simply not cut out for stuff like this, and yet, he tried to make the best of it and kept pace with Az as much as he could, humming a tune here and there instead of annoying him with fundamental questions about the life of a hunter and its hardships. They had been on foot for a while when they took a short break near a creek they found, which also meant they finally could wash up, and Ignatius was more than happy to.

Ignatius got the hint and didn't bother Azrael much. He preferred to be alone and usually took jobs he could complete on his own, or didn't need much interaction. As soon as there was more than only one other person, at least they could talk amongst themselves, while Azrael just went on ahead, or trudged after them and went to bed early to avoid any campfire chatter. With Ignatius having no one else to talk to, all of this fell to the hunter. He wasn't sure if he himself was just too stubborn and too rude, or if Ignatius was simply annoying. Not even that necessarily, even when they moved on he started humming and prancing about as if this was a nice hike or vacation when it was nothing of the sorts. Demons, including vampires, wouldn't be out at day, but that didn't mean the woods were save. There were still beasts and other dangerous things. This place in particular hadn't been visited by humans in a long time it seems and thus the ground was uneven and Azrael just waited for the priest to trip.

While he understood how serious their situation had been for about ten minutes, none of it persisted, as Azrael somehow suspected. Aside from the lack of caution he also lacked the foresight needed to survive. They had to manage their energy, both of them. Eventually Azrael heard some water nearby and as they investigated found a creek. Even some sun came through and Azrael decided this was a good spot to rest. He put down the backpack and took a quick look around. "We should wash up, drink and maybe eat a bit.", he told Ignatius who seemed eager to do just that, already heading for the water. Azrael first set up a little fireplace with dry branches he picked up on the way. While Ignatius did his thing, Azrael joined him at the water and filled the pot he brought with it, he hung it over the fire with a little stick contraption he built to boil it. Not for food, the vegetables were already grilled and now alongside the fish lay on a stone next to the fire to warm up a bit. He found some herbs and he wanted to make some form of tea. Nothing special, nothing witchcraft-y just something to warm them up after their wash in the cold water and to revitalize them a bit. Once this was going he headed back to the water himself, getting out of almost all his clothes except his underwear. He trudged inside and first submerged his head in the water before getting back up and rubbing some dirt out of his hair. The cold was nice and felt good on his bruised body and somewhat sore muscles. Before he started to rub himself off all the dirt however, he wanted to wash his clothes. It was warm enough so they'd dry, this would just be a bit of a bigger break. Ignatius surely also wanted to get all the blood out, which partially also stained Azraels clothes.

With a quick break spot found, Ignatius was delighted to get out of most of his clothes and washed them, alongside himself, in the cold creek that they had found - he didn't complain, after all, cold water wasn't something out of the ordinary, and instead, seemingly had the time of his life as he got to finally relax a bit and examine most of his body, safe for the parts cavered by underwear, for any spots and bruises and injuries, as well as finally getting rid of all the blood that had stuck on him. His clothing needed mending, he knew as much, but they didn't have suitable tools for that and given Azraels reaction to his last stunts, the hunter would most likely only get mad if he used magic for something like this yet again. It was, in itself, a bit of a pathetic excuse to not use the arsenal of spells he had at his behest, but it was just what he was used to, now that he had free reign over himself. The blood turned from a rusty, dark bronze into a flowing red and then washed out, and Ignatius red hair looked like petals flowing in the current, but even that didn't stop him from just washing up.

Before Az joined him, it took a while, but he took his advice to heart and drank from the creek as well, then jumped out to quickly hang his clothes on a branch that was smothered in sunlight, only to flee back into the cold embrace of the rocky surface beneath the shallow depths that he was being embraced by currently. Was this any way to live? Ignatius wanted to know, but he enjoyed it for the time being, knowing that he had nothing else going on - it was almost as if he was having fun for the sake of having fun, while Azrael hated him for it, or hated his childish nature for insinuating that he could do such things without making a fool of himself or getting killed. Was it alright to say something now? The moment Az joined him in the water at least, Ignatius got to see a full display of the hunters pale skin and the scars that marred it, many of which probably had stories that told others about battles he'd fought valiantly, his head held high, but even then, he wasn't a paladin but a hunter, and nothing changed about that. "Do they hurt? The scars, I mean.", he asked, all of a sudden, not offering help, just wanting insight. "Do you have any place in mind we should reach before nightfall?"

Ignatius washed his clothes as well and hung them up to dry, only to then come back. Azrael felt his gaze linger on him and he wondered what he was staring at. His skin was unnaturally pale, he knew that. He was called a demon for it, but there had been others who thought of it as a sign that he wasn't actually used to hard labor. Usually he explained it away by claiming he was mostly awake at night, when demons actually roam and never saw much of the sun, but the truth was that his skin just didn't get any darker than this, no matter how much time he spent in the sun. Sometimes he wondered if the people were right, if he was a changeling of some sorts. His mother wouldn't be at fault and he felt guilty about the superstitions he was met with either way. Maybe Ignatius didn't care about that though, maybe he just looked at his scars that were plenty. There had been times he almost died, especially when he ran away from his village and didn't know yet how to fight.

As he looked down at himself he also noticed the blue bruise on his stomach and he probably had matching ones on his back from when he crashed against that tree. Ignatius told him soon enough however. "Sometimes they sting.", he answered him, turning to look at him as well. Did his spell leave any scars or was he just as good as new? Not that he'd let Igbatius try and fix his, which probably wasn't as easy considering they were very old and not fresh like that cut he healed. "The food should by warm by now.", he told the priest who surely noticed the fire Azrael lit. Meanwhile he still rubbed his clothes free of dirt as best as he could, he was almost done and should hang them as well. "I don't know exactly where we are, so no. We should try and find a road, by following this creek we might encounter a bridge or a settlement."

Back in the water he carefully washed off all blemishes he could find, top to bottom, stealing little glances at Azrael when he could - a peek wouldn't hurt, much less would downright asking question do so, but he knew that yesterday, they had talked a lot and presently, it was better for them to simply align themselves to Azraels wishes, before he exploded and just dumped him somewhere for his incessant persona and the ceaseless need to ask many more questions than just the last one he had already fibbed with. "Is it the change in weather? Or just at random?", his questions persisted, but he knew that it was less about that and more about having to make it out of the underbush of awkward silence, because one of them wasn't willing to deal with the others perceived foul attitude. For now, however, he was more than willing to take a verbal beating, be that as it may. "Hm? Oh!" Right, they had some food as well - Azrael had prepared it, but Ignatius was the one that preferred to play around in the water, washing up and being free of any duties, much like he had lived his life up until now. Was this really all there was to it?

With a sigh he relinquished himself to silence for a little bit, watching as Azrael did his best to clean his own clothes, and a multitude of ideas popped into that head of his - often times, he felt like he was running in circles, straight up breaking his back over nothing but his own attitude problems, though, right now, it seemed more so as if he would never tire of himself and the problems he incited. "Hm, you're right. Just aimlessly following the creek might not be the best idea, there's a bunch of cliffs and sharp turns in any direction that would be hard to adjust to. But finding a road might even be a bit more hopeless.", he reckoned, but that didn't help either of them. In fact, maybe it only made this situation worse, the longer any of them were able and entitled to draw breath. "I'll trust your judgement. And let you wash up." As stiff as that sounded, Ignatius got up instead and went to go eat something - the fire would warm him and dry him likewise, and he wouldn't complain of the cold at all - there was no need for such things, not out here, when he had someone as capable as Azrael around anyway.

"Randomly.", Azrael answered rather shortly. He didn't even know what to say about it. Sometimes there was a sting, a feeling as if someone pulled on him where the scar was, but that was about it. He was used to it, it was nothing new and he learnt to ignore most aches, lest he'd not make it far out here. Azrael continued washing his clothes, eventually hanging them to dry as well and washing the rest of his body as well. Ignatius left to go sit by the fire. The creek was their best option, settlements were usually built close to one, not only because they needed a steady water supply, but also because demons often times couldn't cross them. If they followed it it would lead them somewhere eventually, it was definetly better than going in random directions in the woods, hoping to find something by chance. If they had to take a detour that was fine, they'd make it back to the creek, it was loud enough to hear and even if they had to stray further, now that they were outside of this tomb they were able to see the sun and stars again and could better navigate.

Azrael came out of the water as well, sitting by the fire too. The water was cooking by now and he put some of it in the two cups he brought from the hut. Then he put some herbs inside, swaying the cups so they'd go under. One of them he handed Ignatius without much of an explanation. Just some healing herbs he picked up yesterday. Nothing like Ignatius healing powers, it was just a warm drink that would maybe help revitalize them and warm them up. It was also good against fever, but it didn't hurt drinking it even if they both didn't have one. Azrael sipped on his own cup and also grabbed some of the food that was now comfortably warm since it lay next to the fire. At night he'd set up a few traps again, for dinner they'd probably still have enough with that one rabbit and any berries they could snack on the way. "So tell me, how much magic can you comfortably wield a day anyway?", he finally wanted to know. It was hard to plan anything if he didn't know about how much Ignatius could do. Clearly when they ran rom the vampire Ignatius had been too fatigued to heal his wounds right away, but now he sported a brand new hand without showing any signs of weakness.

Life wasn't easy out here, he understood that now, but he also wanted to know more - Ignatius knew that his entire existence was on par with what people would claim nobility was like, and that he had little to fear in the department of, well, anything, but that didn't mean that he didn't have what it took when it came down to where he was needed. For now, however, he wanted to lay low and not actually bother himself with the hubris that was his own under- or misunderstanding of a situation what was already sour in its own right. "Sorry to hear.", he lamented, though, he knew there wasn't anything he could do about it. Why would there be? Ignatius couldn't just go around as a miracle healer and pretend that this was his goal in life; it really, truly wasn't and instead, he should be focusing on something else entirely instead. What good would it do for him to actually waltz around pretending to be nothing more than that, a saint in disguise? He'd take being hunted by the church over being hunted by demons, maybe, but his own version of altruism was hardly what people wanted of him, or desired to take into their own hands.

Sitting crosslegged at the fire, he indulged ever so slightly in the food that had been prepared for Azrael, and abashedly knew he was lacking thanks for him - even the tea felt like it was done out of necessity, more than it was appreciation, and Ignatius was simply happy to have something to tide himself over with. "Is there anything I can do for you in return?", he asked of him, smiling innocently as he took the cup and blew on the steam that rose from it, to not burn his tongue immediately if he were to actually indulge in whatever tea had been prepared for him. Ignatius was, and should be, happy about this - he knew that sometimes it was a bit harder to deal with, but other times, everything was perfectly fine in that emotionally messed up world of his. "Depends. It's tied to my faith, to how enamored I am with what I need to do, and all sorts of things. It's a bit volatile - it's tied to how I'm feeling, too, at least physically. I'm exhausted, just a bit, but not as badly as it was yesterday, or the day before. I had a nice nights rest, so things like this are possible without actually killing me in one shot ... if you mean my hand, or my intact ribs." Ignatius was a mooch, and the thing he was mooching off of was his gods power. "Why? Do you wish to be healed?"

"I just want to know what I'm working with here.", Azrael promptly answered. Accepting help was hard for him in the best of times, it coming from the church and a god he at best didn't believe in, at worst disliked, was making this even harder. Additionally he saw how Ignatius often misjudged his own strength and wasn't sure how much he thought ahead if he said he waa fine wielding some magic. Azrael also didn't want to get too used to that cursed healing magic, after all, he didn't plan to stay at Ignatius side for the rest of his days. Even though he felt the injuries the vampire caused, and saw them too, he knew he was able to keep going and fight of he had to, alghough aside from his broken ribs and bruised back, he was pretty sure his wrist was injured as well, from the blow he tried to deflect. There was only so much a human body could take after all anf no matter how strong he got, he'd never match a vampire. Killing one took preperation and wits and even then it was risky.

"If you can keep going the rest of the day or even run if you have to...", there was an uncomfortably long pause, "... then yes. Just mending my bones, my wrist in particular will be enough if you need priorities.", Azrael reluctantly told the priest. They both were better off if Azrael was at his best, probably. He wasn't strong enough to carry the priest though, so he'd need some strength himself nonetheless. This break started to feel a bit long as well, but they needed to wait for their clothes to dry and even though they slept in a bed for once after their ordeal, he believed they both were still exhausted. He'd expected Ignatius to be more shaken up still, but the knowledge of being able to heal most of his, even deadly, wounds was maybe enough to make him unafraid of what was out there. He could only hope no one knew where that escape route underneath the cathedral led and they'd have some calm days and nights ahead of them.

Being out here was exciting, no, exhilerating even, but there was nothing much Ignatius could sift through to assure himself that this was the right path that he was taking - the world didn't simply stop because they needed a moment of respite, a second to heal, and eternity to quabble, not in the slightest, but even then, it was worth trying to brave the calm before the storm and make amends for things that were yet to happen, transpire between now and the next month, all the while they were toiling about, even still. "The best one, I suppose. My magic is stronger than anyone elses, you can likely guess why, after you've already discerned those riddles three." No sane person would think of a singular priest as an army, and the thing was, Ignatius hardly was - he wasn't lazy, but self-absorbed and not properly trained in real combat, and he was more and more obsessed with himself than his god, the longer he got to show off and the more power he gained from what he was doing. Surely, the rise that came before the fall was steep, but that meant the fall would break his neck and his arrogance would be the axe that felled him in the end, because he did not once manage to shut his mouth and then, afterward, also tore himself to shreds over nothing, simply to have done something for the sake of it.

"I see. As much shall be doable.", he told Azrael, firm and with the grace of a man that believed god to be his last lifeline, yet, if he likely could, would challenge him for his throne and then come to the bitter realization that his arrogance, truly and finally, was killing him for having possessed it in the first place. Ignatius was, for better or for worse, a man of his word that used his hands to mend wounds, to sew flesh and to make something out of nothing - the messiah, as one would call him, and yet, he was quick to prove everyone wrong with his catty, almost annoying demeanor at times - he liked the church, as much as he liked the commonfolk, and he wished to use his powers for good, even if it meant to kill himself for it in the end. Regardless of his task, however, the mending of Azrael, of his companion and protector, was nothing that he had not done to other people before. It was almost as if turning him back into a singular piece was the easiest thing yet, and with a smile, he fixed all that ailed the brooding man in an instant, without much fanfare, or even asking for anything in return. Ignatius, in the end, smiled and leaned back just a bit, basking in what he had done in the blink of an eye before it hit him that they had to keep moving soon enough.