Name: Henry FeyAge: 21Appearance:Other: [ You'd think for a guy who lives in the woods he'd have a beard, but no. He jokes with himself that he doesn't want people starting to think some kind of hairy beast lives in the forest. Kinda like Big Foot.[ Henry's been living by himself for four years now; the only people he speaks with are the traders who give him money in exchange for meat and pelts so he can go and buy himself small luxuries like razors. knives are only safe for so long.[ He can hunt and cook like it's nobody's business.
Shiloh shivered as he walked to his black cougar eliminator, glancing over his shoulder frequently as he got in the car, turned it on and peeled out of the driveway. He had no destination in mind, no idea of where he would go. All he had was a full tank of gas, and the clothes on his back. He hadn't even taken a sweater or jacket to keep warm, and as soon as he had the chance, he cranked up the heat. He steered with one hand, and held the other over the vent in his car to warm his hands, then switched and did the same for the other hand. His mind was a swirl of confusing emotions, his thoughts turbulent and uncontrollable as he relived his past while he drove, not noticing that he had left the city and was entering a wooded area.He drove along an unfamiliar road, no radio on and the car filled with silence. One would think that he would have been paying attention to the road, but he was so immersed within himself that he was on 'auto-pilot' and didn't see a patch of black ice, which is hard to notice even when you are paying attention. The car skidded out of control and Shiloh snapped back to the present as he struggled to regain control of the car. It went over the railing and his head slammed forward into the wheel and he lost consciousness.When Shiloh woke, he and the car were tilted forward. Immediately, he struggled and freed himself from the car, falling into the snow as soon as he managed to get out the door. He groaned in pain, hugging his ribs with one hand and shivering as he turned to look at his car tilted at what would seem to be an impossible angle. At least its not badly damaged....though I can't really do anything to fix this.... he thought, starting to shiver from the cold. He was starting to regret not grabbing a coat or anything to keep warm as he started to walk around, looking for the road.After wandering around for who knows how long and losing the feeling in his hands and feet, he stumbled upon a cabin by chance. Oh, thank goddess....maybe someone there can help me. he thought, stumbling forward towards the cabin, still shivering fiercely and aching from the crash in several places.
Henry was sure as hell looking forward to that fire when he got back home. Trekking with snowshoes all the way from the village to the cabin was hard work and being out in the bitter cold all day, looking for fresh game and setting up new traps had taken its toll on the man. Fortunately he wasn’t far from his cabin and the weight of the bundles of wood pressing down on his shoulder was straining. He’d bought more than the usual today seeing as the days were growing mercilessly colder, something told Henry he wouldn’t want to go out in the days to come.Finally his home came into view, the small building dimly lit thanks to oil lamp glowing on the front porch. Sniffling from the cold, he urged his legs to move faster, pushing away the aching of his muscles and how short of breath he was becoming. Damn the cold. He couldn’t wait until this bitter winter lost its acceleration.At first Henry brushed it off as a mere tree but as he grew closer, he realized that an odd shape was moving toward his cabin and his chest constricted in irritation. “Fuckin’ poachers,” He growled lowly, trekking quickly in order to reach the jackass before he could make it into his home. He sniffled again and rubbed his scarf-covered nose against his shoulder. “Hey!” He shouted to grab the guy’s attention. His voice carried easily, splitting the cold air as easily as a knife would a block of melting butter.But every word he had ready to fire, telling the man to go away died in his throat as he took in the state he was in. This was no poacher, not even close. The annoyance immediately dissolved into concern, his face stuck in a frown. “The hell you doin’ out here?” It was a question Henry was not expecting an answer to. “Get’n here before you freeze to death,” He said, climbing the stairs to his house. He opened the door and walked in, immediately dumping the logs right then and there with a loud sigh. Turning to the man, he ushered him closer, grabbing the boy by the shoulder and dragging him in so he could slam the door shut.Henry didn’t bother taking his clothes off and walked right into his bedroom and pulled the thick quilt off his bed. He made his way back to the boy and wrapped it firmly around his shoulder, leading him to the couch facing the fireplace. Carefully, he sat the guy down and, still without speaking, retreated back to the logs so he could build a fire as fast as his numb fingers would allow him.
When Shiloh had first heard the shout behind him, fear had flooded his veins, terrified that he had stepped into land as a trespasser and expecting to be shot. "The hell you doin' out here?"Shiloh closed his eyes, shivering so hard he could hardly move by this point, his lips blue and skin freezing cold to the touch as he waited for the sound of a gun. He was more than surprised to here the man open his home to him and usher him inside. He could barely manage that much. His body felt numb and he barely managed to stumble forward into the house. Trembling, he hugged himself gingerly, his ribs still aching from the crash, though he knew not why as of yet since he didn't remember the actual crash.Shiloh was almost too cold to function as Henry led him into the house and wrapped a quilt about his trembling form. Too cold to even speak, he could only look at the man helping him and try to clutch the quilt tighter around his snow drenched and nearly frozen body with numbed fingers. He couldn't manage any words at all, his teeth were chattering so hard that he feared he might bite his tongue clear off should he try, and so he maintained silence for the moment instead. He was more than grateful for the man finding him when he did. From how frozen he felt, he knew he would not have lasted much longer at all if this man had not been kind enough to offer him shelter. He cursed his desire to leave immediately without gathering any means of supplies or clothing, though he knew doing so meant little to the present.
It took another bout of effort, but Henry was able to get a fire started. He glanced at the guy, eyeing him with worry and confusion. However he kept to himself and instead ventured into his small kitchen, grabbing a pot only to fill with ice cold water. He set the pot on the gas stove and turned it on, leaving it to boil. Finally Henry began peeling his layers off, walking to his coat hanger to place his first coat on one of the hooks. His second jacket, a thinner one, he removed and walked to the boy, handing it to him. “It’s warm,” He explained. They seemed to be relatively the same size so he wasn’t worried about it not fitting and even if it didn’t Henry was positive it wouldn’t matter. After removing his fur-lined boots and dumping them by the boy’s feet, he took his hat and gloves off and gave them to the boy as well, dropping it on the cushion next to him. Henry wandered off and checked on the water which was slowly beginning to warm and that’s when he dug around for a mug, setting it on the counter when he found it. He grabbed a bag of tea from the box sitting by the sink and threw it in the mug hastily. Finally Henry back down a few notches. He pulled the scarf away from his face and rubbed his face in the sleeve of his forearm, exhaling loudly. “D’you need anything else? I’ve got some tea on the stove.” He padded back into the small living room and checked on the fire, glad it was burning nicely. “You okay?” He asked specifically, taking a good look at the man.
Shiloh pulled the jacket on gratefully, then the gloves and pulled the hat down over his head with numb fingers and kicked his soaked sneakers off his feet after a moment to try and thaw out his frozen toes. The fear of frostbite was very real as he huddled where he was sitting, freezing cold and barely able to feel the heat from the fire or the warmth of the coats.Still trembling from the cold that seemed to have seeped into his bones, his very soul, he couldn't speak at first. In fact it took several minutes for him to feel even mildly the heat that was emanating from the fire and to feel it gradually begin to thaw him out slowly from the outside, though some warm tea would certainly help speed the process along when it was finished. All he could manage to say when his face was warmed enough for him to be able to move his still blue lips and whisper out softly, "C-cold......s-s-so c-c-cold...." and tremble again, wishing he could warm up faster.
Henry bit his lip, feeling almost guilty he’d even asked the guy anything in the first place. His gaze shifted from said man to the crackling of the fire in thought. What did he do? Thoughts of his first winter alone in the desolate forest flashed before his eyes, how he had wept on nights where he hadn’t bothered gathering more logs because he hadn’t thought he’d need them. Or how frustrated he became in regards to the lack of game rummaging through the woods, his mind still stuck in the consumer ideology instead of the survival state of mind.The guy reminded Henry of him on his first winter, only much worse. “I know you are, you’ll warm up soon,” He assured him, walking past the couch and pack into the kitchen to the pot of boiling water. He grabbed the handle steadily and carefully poured the content into the mug. He set the pot down in exchange for a spoon in one of the drawers, stirring the tea quickly leaving the spoon in as he went to deliver the drink to his unexpected visitor.“Don’t drink it yet, it needs to cool.” It occurred to Henry that the guy was most likely frost bitten and, noting just how terrible of shape he was in, the possibility of him losing a few toes or fingers was all too present. And then there wasn’t much the man could do anymore; it was too cold to venture out to the village and he wouldn’t be able to carry the guy all the way over there so he’d need to be able to stand his own. Henry decided he would go back to the village tomorrow and they would call in some medical air support and he’d have the man back home, wherever that was, in no time. But for now … he’d have to keep tabs on the stranger. So he shuffled over to the reclining chair and slowly sat down. “You, uh, you lemme know if you need anythin’ else.”
Shiloh looked up at the man in front of him again for a moment when he spoke, reaching out with trembling hands to clasp the drink, bringing it close to his chest to try and warm himself just by holding it. Not really caring if he burned his tongue at this point, he didn't wait for long before taking a big gulp of the tea, moaning softly as he felt the searing heat of the drink slide down his throat and start to warm his body from within. I'll take a burnt tongue to a frozen body any day..... he thought to himself as he took another eager gulp of the hot liquid.Slowly, ever so slowly, his trembling decreased in intensity, though it didn't go away permanently as he was still much too cold despite his thawing out. It was the kind of cold that came from emotion and permeated him as deeply as the cold had. The warmer he got, the more his body ached and throbbed from the crash. Realizing he might be badly hurt and too numb from the cold to feel it, he hesitated and spoke in a soft tone, "I-i might be hurt....b-but I'm not sure.....where I'm hurt at.....I-i'm too cold to tell.....I-i know my ribs hurt....but that's it..." he glanced up at Henry, then away again, fixating on the mug in his hands as he lifted it to drink what to him was practically just liquid heat. Surprisingly, his tongue wasn't burnt like he thought it would be, so he supposed that he ended up waiting long enough for it to not scald him, or he was numb to the pain. Who knew for sure honestly.He tried hard to maintain a train of thought relevant to the topic at hand concerning his well-being, but exhaustion and exposure to the cold in jeans and a t-shirt, now effectively soaking wet in snow water and starting to make him cold again, was making it hard for him to focus. His mind kept wanting to divert from his current train of thought to just kind of float around other items of inquiry and things to ponder that he didn't need to be focusing on, including what had caused him to leave like he did.
Henry winced for the guy as he hardly seemed to think twice about downing the boiling contents. That couldn’t have been healthy; was this guy trying to make himself feel worse? He eyed the visitor’s clothing and noted that they were beginning to dampen which he wasn’t supposed to be wearing – Henry knew that much. But for some reason, he stayed in the reclining chair, his shoulder stiff and uncomfortable from having carried such heavy load all the way back here. The discomfort showed when he attempted to roll his shoulder back but gave up halfway through, instead earning a grimace and a quiet, rugged groan. He almost missed the other boy’s gentle voice.Sitting up in the chair, he leaned in a tad closer, turning his head as to allow his good ear to capture the words he was trying to speak. Hurt? Why would he be hurt? Even though he was a little worried, Henry didn’t let it show. Instead he stood up and picked up his iron bar, prodding at the fire hastily. “You were walkin’ when I found you, it shouldn’t be so bad.” It was a feeble attempt at reassuring the other guy but it’d been spoken dryly. “You work on warmin’ up, I’ll find some dry clothes.” He didn’t wait to walk out of the lounging area and into his bedroom. He opened the drawer second to the bottom one and pulled out a pair of flannel pajama pants. He then reached his arm across to his bed which was nearby and grabbed the sweater he’d laid out this morning, ready for his return tonight in exchange for the sweat-induced one he was currently sporting. However the plans had changed. Henry sauntered back over to the stranger and laid the articles of clothing beside him. “I don’t got any painkillers,” He mumbled apologetically, standing over him. “I’ll wrap your hands and feet when you think you’re warm enough and I’ll find a way to get you to the hospital in the mornin’.” Speaking his plans aloud made Henry feel a little better about it; it sounded secure. And then his gaze shifted to the practically empty mug of tea. “You, uh, want some more?”
Shiloh hesitated, then said softly, "I-i don't really remember walking a whole lot. I mean, I knew I had to walk and find the road or something, b-but after a while of walking everything kinda went blank until you led me into the cabin...." he looked up at Henry then at the ground, his hand moving up despite the aching protest within his shoulders, to touch his head, which ached more the warmer he became, which led him to believe that the numbness from the cold weather had numbed him to the pain of his injuries. "I-i crashed my car...." he mumbled, trying to remember everything. "...I'll find a way to get you to the hospital in the mornin'."As soon as Shiloh heard that, his eyes snapped up to Henry, wild with fear and wide in terror. "No!" he said, raising his voice for the first time with an audible tinge of fear in his voice. "Please, n-no hospitals! I-its not safe....its not safe....." he started to tremble again, out of fear rather than cold this time. He couldn't go to the hospital. What if they were not-.....then if they found him.....he couldn't let them find him, he couldn't.Shaking his head, he forced himself to his feet, as if he were prepared to leave should it come to that, despite being able to barely stay on his still slightly numb feet. "No hospital." he said again, his voice soft once again, but still sounding firm on it. "I can't go.....I-I can't."
“Hm.” Henry listened to the guy talking, taking a small step back, giving him space. It made sense; adrenaline and whatnot. A car crash explained a lot more things as well, but it only meant more work for him in the morning which would ultimately destroy his usual routine. But this was a human being in dire need of medical attention; he couldn’t afford to think of this as a hindrance in his day-to-day routine. It’d be inhumane. He jumped, startled as the guy seemed to find a new burst of strength. “Hey-” He interjected when he suddenly got up, his arms shooting out to gently force the other man back on the couch. “Alright, calm down. Just … calm down or you’ll hurt yourself even more” He said. Henry figured that the guy was off kilter. The hospital was the safest place he could be right now, it was common sense to have him brought there as soon as possible. “No hospital.” Tonight. They would discuss the matter in the morning.“Let’s just get you unthawed first, yeah?” He moved on from the seemingly touchy subject and instead grabbed the dry sweater, holding it up. “You think you’re able to take your shirt off? If not, I’ve got scissors in the kitchen and …” He trailed off, glancing in direction of said kitchen before shifting his gaze back to the man. “I can try to help if you can’t,” He added afterward, although there was uncertainty in his voice. The last time he’d helped anyone out their outfit was well over five years ago and it’d been his baby sister. This was a grown man, there was a difference.
Shiloh allowed Henry to push him back down onto the couch, relaxing only slightly when he said that he wasn't going to take him to the hospital. He was still worried that he might do it, but he had to hope that he would understand his fear and not make him go. He couldn't let them find him.Looking up at Henry for a long moment, he didn't seem to understand what he said at first, then it registered within his muddled mind and his hands moved to the bottom of his shirt to try and pull it off. But he barely got it up to his midsection before the pain grew too intense for him to continue. If it hurt this bad, how the heck did he manage to put the shirt on in the first place? He looked up at Henry again. "I-i can't.....i-it hurts too much...." he admitted softly.((hehe I has a surprise for ya when he removes his shirt and perhaps looks him over for injury >:D hence the shortish post))
Henry sunk his teeth gently into his lower lip, clearly wrapped up in his thoughts. "Okay, s'alright," He assured the guy, taking a few steps back. "Just don't move." He turned on his heel and stalked off into the kitchen to fetch the pair of scissors he'd mentioned moments earlier.Clippers in hand, he returned to the guy and held them up for him to see. "It's the only way." Hopefully he wasn't too attached to the shirt because, whether he liked it or not, the fabric needed to be cut off. Henry hesitated a moment before stepping closer and reaching for the end of the soaked shirt. His actions were deliberately slow in case the stranger didn't want him to go through with it.
Shiloh's head drooped as Henry said it was alright and to not move, not really having the energy to do so anymore. He didn't need to be moving anyways. He looked up at Henry again when he returned with scissors and slowly shifted to give Henry the length of his back, figuring if he cut the fabric straight up his back it would be easier to take off. "I-I understand....go a-ahead." he said softly. "Th-the sooner its off....th-the sooner I-i'll be a-able to warm u-up more." he shivered as he spoke, clearly still cold. After he was in dry clothes, he planned on asking for another cup of warm tea, having loved the way it had spread warmth through his body and chest. If he had been able to think clearer, he probably would have thought twice about letting Henry cut his shirt off, much less see his body beneath his clothes in general. When Henry would finish cutting his shirt off, he would soon learn why Shiloh had ran away with only the clothes on his back...
Henry nodded and fingered the damp fabric in between his thumb and forefinger a few seconds before lining the blades and tentatively cutting the shirt. It didn't take long for him to carry out the action, however the motion of cutting slowed as he spotted odd colours splotched on the guy's back. No car accident could have caused those, Henry wasn't stupid. His jaw clenched uncomfortably tight as he cut the last bit, giving the other man an easy task of peeling it off carefully. Flashes of four years ago prodded at Henry's thoughts. "Shit," He whispered, tearing his gaze away, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. "Um." Henry cleared his throat and busied himself helping the injured visitor, willing himself to forget what he'd just seen; it wasn't his place to ask questions. In exchange for the wet shirt which he dumped on the floor, Henry grabbed the hoodie and didn't hesitate to carefully ease the man's head through the hole. "Easy now," He murmured, holding the sleeve out so he could slide his arm through more easily, and he did the same with the other sleeve.
Shiloh avoided Henry's gaze as he slid the soaked shirt off of his body, revealing the dark, almost black, bruises covering the better portion of his back. He lifted his head when Henry grabbed the sweater to make it easier to put on, revealing the black and blue bruises covering his chest and stretching down to beneath his soaked pants and boxers. Without a word, he carefully threaded his arms into the sleeves, effectively hiding the scars that latticed up his arms. The bruises easily hid the scars on his chest and back, as did the swelling on his ribs from crashing the car. He was grateful in that moment for the fire creating shadows on his body, he knew it would make it harder to see the extent of the bruises and scars that covered him, some of which he knew Henry would end up seeing since he was helping him change.
Once the hoodie was on, Henry glanced down at the jeans and he bit his lip. If he’d hardly been able to take his shirt off, he didn’t want to think about how difficult it’d be for the poor guy to take his jeans off. And a shirt was one thing, but pants were another. “Are you … do you want to do the same with your pants or …?” He’d ask this time around instead of just going through with it. If he’d been in the guy’s position, he would’ve wanted to keep his pants on and just let them unthaw by the fire despite how dangerous.“I’m Henry, by the way. You got real lucky, kid, ‘cause there isn’t a village for the next two miles.” He said kid because in this state, the guy looked fairly young; sixteen, give or take. Then again, Henry wasn’t all that good at placing ages to faces. He was only twenty one but sometimes people thought he was twenty five, especially when he didn’t shave for a few months. Yet when he was clean, they often mistook him for someone younger than he was. Appearances could be deceiving, that much he’d learned.
Shiloh hesitated for a long moment, his gaze dropping to fixate on his soaked jeans. He knew it wasn't a good idea to continue to wear any soaked clothes, especially since he was already freezing cold. He knew that meant getting dry by changing but...he wasn't sure how he would manage to take his pants off, at least not on his own. It wasn't a matter of the other male, Henry, seeing him with his pants off that bothered him, but rather that he was concerned about him seeing the scars and bruises that marred his thigh's and calves. Especially since he was facing the fire and it left no shadows to be able to hide them like with how he thought the shadows had hidden the bruises and scars marring his back."I'm definitely not someone who should be called lucky.....not after all that's happened." Shiloh said softly, not looking up at Henry. "I'm neither deserving of such a positive word, nor is it one that would ever be used to aptly describe me." He ran his hands slowly down his thighs, doing it as gently as possible to avoid his hurting the bruises marring him. "As for the pants......I-i know it would be unwise to leave them on....so I'll change out of them if you have a spare pair for me to wear." he didn't think to ask for help, simply because he didn't want him to see what it was he wished to hide and forget. He'd rather bear the pain of attempting to do so himself then let Henry assist and have him see what's been done to him.
Henry frowned, though didn’t comment on the boy’s words. “What happened?” He asked simply, not planning to press him if he didn’t want to talk about it. “Nevermind.” He wasn’t the guy’s guardian, he still planned to have him flown to the nearest hospital as soon as daylight broke and they’d both gotten some rest. Moreover there was an awful storm outside, yet another reason to wait until morning. He’d heard Mitchell form the village talk about how tomorrow was supposed to clear up. “Yeah, right here,” Henry said in regards to having a pair of pants. He gestured to the flannel pajama bottoms he’d brought out and set beside the boy. He also pointed to the pair of scissors he’d used to cut the shirt. “They’re there if you need ‘em. Just call me if you need me.” With that he turned and walked out, giving the man some privacy. Entering his room, he closed the door most of the way and finally took the opportunity to change as well, fighting today’s fatigue out of his body. For a smidge moment, Henry wished he owned a phone so he could call someone from the village and let them know he was going to stop by with someone in need of treatment; because there was no way that man was going to heal properly if he didn’t get looked at by a doctor. On top of that if he’d been frostbitten, Henry wasn’t sure what he’d do. The broken ribs would need to be looked at and the questionable marks marring his body would also have to be examined.
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