When Grayson came back with the gentle shake of a shoulder, the face of another invaded his still blurred vision. â€śW-wh-what?â€ť he asked, as his head swung around and the trees dance causing his stomach to roll. He felt the ground beneath him and planted his legs firmly as he put his weight on the mysterious guy who was helping him. â€śOh, okay.â€ť he slurred as they stumbled through the woods together.
He was more with it then not, but the whooshing and ringing in his ears told him he still wasnâ€™t fully there. Something told him that this wasnâ€™t right, something was wrong, but his feet nonetheless kept moving and as his stomach continued to roll he was more focused on that then the fleeting trust he put in the stranger. He felt calm despite the chaos just moments ago, felt a strange tug to give in, like smoke pouring through the cracks of his mental barriers. So he continued without another thought, heâ€™d trust him because he was trustworthy, he decided.
As he shuffled his feet and his head lobbed to and fro he start to recognize the area, heâ€™d been here a few times before and the corner of his mouth lifted like a reflex. He didnâ€™t speak - his mouth felt too dry. And relief started to sooth over him like a warm bath. The Stone Dragon meant safety, it also meant Olive would be there. He wanted to make sure she was okay. His eyes widened slightly, the camp!
He had to go back didnâ€™t he? He needed to go back!
But that same serene calmness filled him. Yes, he must trust this man, he shouldnâ€™t fight, he was helping him.
They reached the door, and the stranger knocked. Yes, knocked. Graysonâ€™s brows furrowed together in confusion. Shouldnâ€™t the Stone Dragon be open? Maybe word of the fight had reached them already. Something wasnâ€™t right.
He could feel it in his bones, so sure that this wasnâ€™t right but there was nothing he could do about it. The concussion was causing some serious side effects, he couldnâ€™t tap into his healing, into anything. â€śWait..â€ť Grayson rasped, but it was too late.
The door swung open and a guard grabbed Grayson from the stranger his strength easily overpowering his increasing weakened state. He struggled pulling against his grip but it only tightened. Grayson looked as the door shut, not missing the look on the strangers face. Void of all friendliness, Grayson growled as Tristanâ€™s name left his lips. Heâ€™d never forget that face.
Graysonâ€™s head dropped as they re-barred the door, and the guard roughly swung him around while maintaining a firm grasp on him. It was eerily quiet the moment he entered, his eyes lifted just slightly as he looked over at the bar. Olive and ...Thoth's Familiar? Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.
He thought as he squirmed against the guards hold again. He roughly yanked on him forcing his attention to turn.
Grayson swallowed, this was bad, very bad - the sight of Mordred had caught him off guard. He tried to look away, tried to overcome the shock that he felt. Graysonâ€™s nose wrinkled as his lip lifted slightly showing a few teeth, a facial expression that wouldnâ€™t go amiss by anyone in the room.
Grayson could only think one word but the word never came to pass on his lips, murderer