Reincarnated into a Snow Griffin
Chapter 42

Chapter 42: Chapter 42

In the state my body is at I’m stuck in that cave for the longest time, and with that we end up spending a few weeks together since my wounds run deeper than I thought at first, and me not feeding myself at the beginning when I needed the most did not help it recover in the slightest, and since some of them were over my ribcage I could not even move out of the cave before patting in pain and turning back around, and at the bad days even breathing could make me break a sweat at the sharp pain of the bones poking at my lungs.

Pitty that the few bones that could not be properly held in place by gaze and wounds were the ones the lion so kindly broke for me...

And having to stay put, obligated to, by my own body only makes my own anxiety grow bigger, but remembering just how much ’help’ I could give in a fight with a terrible practical memory to weigh my heart down I simply knew that there is nothing I could do in my current form so as much as the only I wanted right now is go back to mother and free her, like an itch I could not reach, always bugging me, constant, the logical part of me still knows that there is no point in rushing out into danger only in search of her for I would only encounter the same thing that I did before now, and this time around I may not be as lucky and survive the ordeal.

I knew that, and yet my heart wiped for us to do something, anything at all, as dumb as it may sound, and staying put was killing me, but not as much as going out right now would.

Worst of all is the knowledge that, even if I wanted to search for her now I could not even find them now, with my guiding stone crushed I could not feel the directions anymore, even less find the Floating High Lands as they never stopped moving, probably miles away by now.

I swallow dry, a bitter taste filling my mouth, the buzzing worry growing, the idea that I may never see my homeland land, my own mother, ever again seeming more real and possible than ever.

It is a constant fight at that point, of knowing that such depressive thoughts would do me no good, but having them come and fill my mind nonetheless.

I was a jumbled mess, and not only body wise.

So I focus with a death grip at the only things that could take my attention out of it, and the mysterious masked body ends more than once being the center of my attention.

Well, there is that, but also ignoring whatever dumb or provocative things the little devils says he ended up being not that bad at all, bringing me food, helping me tend to my wounds time and time again, and giving me privacy when I bathe, no matter the words he uttered before it.

"Are you sure you don’t need my help? Laying down for so long I’m afraid you will make new wounds if you don’t clean your back well and-"

"Scram!"

And yet I’m thankful that he would always come back, for I cannot image, no, is because I actually know what would be of me without him that makes me so grateful for his help.

Though he makes me doubt that every time he opens his mouth...

And yet no matter how joyful he is, still I cannot get him to talk about himself, especially regarding that mask of his, why bother keeping himself hidden to this point, even masquerading his scent with magic? What is there to hide?

What is it that he would want to hide so much?

That makes me not only curios but unconsciously on guard, and yet one day, as he was messing with his stuff on the side, piles and piles of bags that only grow, I see something familiar slip out of one of those bags that makes me widen my eyes and try to move up, only to stop midway, hissing in pain.

"Uhm? What is it? Did you missed me that much?"

I’ve come to understand that is best to ignore his provocations than to acknowledge them, so that’s just what I do: " T-that thing over there, can you bring it to me?"

He does so, and as the object approaches me I’m left to wonder what were the odds of such a thing reaching my hands after all that happened.

Because, here and there, being handed to me, is the magical book I bought with mother, full of leaves and dirt, probably from being thrown around and falling up from the sky after that blasting fight.

A thing that I thought I would never see before, something that brought as much hope as it did with now painful memories of the life I just lost.

I swallow dry and reach out for it.