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"Don't do it! It's too risky!"

"I have to try!"

"William!"

And a blinding light flooded the room, bright enough to muffle the screams of shock.

---

Mage-craft has its risks. Power to move mountains and heal the wounded, but always at a personal cost. Sometimes, even the cost of one's life.

Between William and Owen however, death doesn't seem to be able to find the right billing address.

One moment the ritual room was filled with searing light, and the next, William found himself stirred awake by the prodding beams of morning light, filtered through a dusty window. The long-snouted Ibizan hound gave a soft groan, and tried to reach for his own eyes.

Except, his arm felt heavier than lead. Heavier than lead pinned under a boulder. He managed a twitch, and his eyes shot open with fear. A sharp breath, and his head tilts to try and see himself. See, and assess his own present situation.

He didn't anticipate to come face to face with the lynx soldier lying in bed with him. Still dressed in tunic and pants, eyes closed, scar-ruined face almost looking peaceful in its sleep. With the jagged tufts of fur and bulky build, it's no wonder the soldier could easily pass for male.

William spoke, his voice rasped with disuse, "Owen?"

The lynx' eyes shot open, pupils narrowing to thin slits in the sudden light. And, soon expanding again as she laid sight on the hound. "William... Will, you're awake...!" Upright she moved, wanting to pull him in but frightful of harming him with the slightest touch, "How, how are you feeling?"

"Like I've been mummified. I'm going to look even more like Anubis at this rate..."

His morbid humor brought a fanged grin on the Lynx' face. The dark humor was missed. "You nearly died, lad." And the edges of her face softened to concern, worry. "... The infirmary said you've lost a lot of muscle mass. They said you'll recover, but it's ... it's going to take weeks. Strict diet, and ... You'll be given caretakers to help you with every day tasks."

"But, what about the child?" William winced, once more trying to sit up, but with no result. He fell back with a soft grunt, inciting a concerned brush of Owen's fingers over his forehead.

"She'll survive, too. Thanks to you." The soldier's smile was soft. "The king's grateful. All recovery expenses covered."

"That's... that's good." The canine exhaled out, eyes drifting shut under the tracing, padded, calloused fingers. "... Not going to be great, though. Not being able to move..."

"Give it time, lad. You'll be up and fighting in no time, knowing you."

"You'll be there to kick my ass if I start slacking, then?" The hound grinned.

"Always." Owen smirks with her reply. "The infirmary workers are just in the other room, if you need any..."

"Please stay." The words fell out of William's mouth faster than he could consider them. He swallowed, eyes darting to Owen's surprised face. "... I was scared, back there. I really thought that was it. And ... in that moment, I just ..." Jaw tensing, his adam's apple bobbed in his swallow of emotion.

Owen rests her palm against his cheek. "Shh... I know, I know. Don't say no more, okay? I'll stay. Anything you'd like?"

"How long have I been out for?"

"A day, by miracles..."

"My hair's probably a mess." Came the tired mage's chuckle. "Hells, I probably look entirely like a mess..."

Owen could only shake her head in amusement. "Want me t'brush you, then?"

"... Please." the hound admits, pale face gaining a faint, rosy hue. Surrendering to his situation, he let himself go limp as Owen took to stand. For a five foot nothing, the lynx-soldier was built with limbs of pure muscle, scars, and fluff. She reached out, and manages to prop up the lanky mage into a sitting position. She moved to settle behind him, her knees acting as a back-rest for his weakened form. There, a brush retrieved, she set to grooming down the vain mage's longer hair. Each sweep of the brush incited a small sigh of comfort from the canine, his extended ears allowed to sink back. "... thank you."

"Nah trouble, lad. Not my best braiding with these graceless fingers, but..."

"It's fine, truly." William grinned as his head bowed down. For all of their days of excitement and adventure, and even in light of his unfortunate health ... He was alive, mending, and rare, quiet moments like these were to be cherished. In the silence of Owen's brushing, and his thoughts left to wander, he soon starts to grow more aware of his own body. His heartbeat, the shift of his lungs, the heat of his own body against his robes, and ...

Oh.

"You ... said it was, over a day since I've been asleep, didn't you?" William tentatively asks, the color seeping back up his face. Such long sleep was good for the mana-spent body, but the body still kept its own biological needs going. And there was no denying his sudden awareness of the full, heavy feeling just below his gut. In the smallest of movements that required the greatest of efforts, his knees shifted to pinch together. Ah dear.

"A little over a day, yea. Edging to two, if we're counting the night in the ritual room..." Owen, distracted, went about tying off the end of the canine's braid.

"I ... might need... help..." The flustered hound could only trail into an embarrassed mumble. His head bowed down, long snout near reaching his collarbone.

Concerned, Owen leaned asided to try and get a look at his face. "Help? What is it, lad?"

"I ... Hmmf..." His ears pinned back, and his paw-feet gave a shuffle against each other. There was no way around this, and his eyes squinted shut in his embarrassment. "I..." And his voice fell feather-soft, "need to pee."

Understanding flashed over Owen's face, and her brow rose high. "Oh. Should ... I call for...?"

"No! I mean, I, I don't know!" His eyes shut tighter, as if the act alone could bring him to exit this situation as a whole, "I don't-- don't want some, stranger, handling..." His face burned, ear-tips even tinting in shade, up until he felt Owen's hand gracing against his cheek. Rough fingers gently pushed against the back of his snout to bring him face to face with the Lynx' gaze, his own eyes tentatively squinting open.

Owen could only look up to him with sympathy, and a quiet, adoring smile. "It's okay. It's natural, love. Do you want me to help you...?"

A muffled whine left the dog. Ears lowered, embarrassment seeping through him, he could only manage another shuffle of his knees in his urgent fidget. "... please."

What he didn't expect was the small kiss placed to his cheek. His ears flew high, eyes widening in the wake of the lynx' retreat. He took a moment to see her retreat to dig under the bed. Meanwhile, with all of the effort in the world, he managed to drag his arms across the bed covers, and, just over his legs, to rest against his legs. Getting the limbs to climb over the hill of his legs, however, was beyond him.

Back up Owen went, chamber pot retrieved, and a glance was cast to his hands. Concern wrinkled her brow. "Can you lift your hands...?"

William gave his head a small shake. Owen met it with an understanding nod.

With all of the care in the world, she stepped before him, and reached out to lift his chin up so his eyes met hers again. She offered him a small smile, "You'll get there. I'm going to need t'undress you. And ... Well," A crooked grin pulled up her ruined features, "It's not anything I haven't seen before."

William gave in to a quiet swallow. Sure, it was a small comfort; there was no doubt the soldier had seen her own fair share of nude men. But he was vulnerable. And to be caught -- no, encouraged even -- in an even more vulnerable act...

"May I?" Owen's voice was soft, as she lowered the porcelain pot near his still-clothed lap. Her hand ghosted down near his clothes, not yet touching; just waiting on his permission.

And that meant the world to him. Just little moments, little check-ins, little acts of respect. "P...please. Thank you..." William whispered in turn. A small, flicker of a smile tugged up his face. "I'd help more but..."

"Relax, boy," Owen's voice filled with gentle laughter, "You helped enough to last a while." And with permission given, she rested the chamber pot down on the ground. She then reached up, and carefully started rolling up the mage's robes up his knees, past his clamping legs, up until the cloth gathered by his slim hips. Cloth braies were worn for decency -- but only for the moment. "You're going to need to unclasp a little, love..."

"I, really need to go." William's own voice faltered. Weak as he was, he didn't trust shifting his legs even just a touch. He could feel the weight, the pressure, his cock and bladder like a loaded gun with a too-loose trigger. Panic was in his eyes as he looked up to Owen's face. "I, it's..."

Owen simply frowned in the thoughtful way she usually does. She shook her head, and reached out to grip the front of his undergarment. "We'll make this quick."

"How w--aaAH!" William could only yelp as the cloth was yanked down his legs, exposing his dripping shaft and dark-skinned vunerability. Legs forced apart with the pull of the cloth, his sole sandcastle barrier crumbled against the onslaught need to piss. The stream leapt out in a continuous ribbon, only for it to be split in half by the shoved porcelain pot kept close against his crotch. Sounds of his drips of urine thumping against wood were instead replaced with the hissed sound of his stream tinking against the pot, echoed within its own contents. Owen slid in close, keeping the chamber-pot levelled by the bed-side as her off-hand moved to rest over the mage's shoulders, securing him in place. And William could finally sigh, what tension held in him, allowed release.

His legs went limp, and his tired gaze watched as his stream easily filled half of the pot with no signs of slowing. Chancing a moment to look up, he allowed his eyes to give Owen a side-glance.

She held onto the pot, expression merely deeply thoughtful with concentration to keep the item level, and the weak hound in a secure grip. There was no malice, no teasing, only the discipline of a soldier with the security of a caretaker. William found himself swallowing.

Close as he was to her, it was just a weak tilt of his head, and his long muzzle bumped a small kiss to Owen's cheek. That, disrupted the lynx' discipline as her own eyes widened, a faint flush of color seen spotted between scars and fur. She looks to him in turn, and soon gained a small smile of her own.

William bowed his head with a small, flushed grin. "... thanks for taking care of me, Owen... I... I can't imagine getting into half of this shit without you."

"Neither can I. I didn't care for anyone until you showed up."

Sighing, William sunk into the embrace. His stream trinkled down to yellow beads, dripping until his shaft rested still on the rim of the pot. Even once done, he was in no hurry to disturb the odd moment. Held secured, even if bared and exposed. Safe.

It was Owen that moved to rest the pot out of the way, and went as far as to take a stray piece of cloth to ensure the hound's nethers remained dry and clean. William was brought back to attention under her patting hand, and he opened his mouth with expectation that they would have to go back to business as usual...

Only for Owen to bring him back to lay down on the bed, her arms wrapped tight around him. His eyes widened in surprise, "Owen? What.. are you okay?"

"I got so scared that you'd disappear." came her own shuddered, breathed words. "I thought..."

William found himself soon smiling. In the smallest of movements, his hand tilted to rest against her form. "... I'm here, Owen. I'm not going anywhere."

A small grin pulled up his face, "... and, you know... you're pretty good at helping me around; surely the king will let you stay near me day in and out, right? For my health."

He could hear her muffled laughter. Her arms squeezed around him, almost at the risk of splitting the poor mage in half. Her muscles eased on him once she started to hear the strangled squeak from the hound. She shifted, and moved to rest her head on his shoulder. "For your health. You nutter."

"Live for another day?" William offered with his exhausted grin.

"Life for another day." Owen echoed, a smile of relief on her own face.

Another day indeed.