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_ Wake up you moron! _

Dougal breathed sharply, gasping for air as he came back to his senses. Pain flared from his back as he tried to breath. Everything was terrifyingly silent, save for the odd, solitary chirping of a nearby bird. His back felt cold, and his head was throbbing. It was like a host of devils were driving pitchforks into his brain.

Focus!_he commanded himself. It was impossible to get a full breath. He breathed in ragged pants, making him light headed. _How long was I out? Dougal shifted and reached behind himself, though it caused him great pain to do so. The blood on his back was still damp.

Only a couple minutes then. Is Jinn okay? I don't hear the Mithril Blades anymore. Dougal groaned as he stood up. He moved while keeping one hand against the wall, leaning on it for support. Damn it! It doesn't even matter what I do anymore. There's no first aid in the world that can fix this mess. If I don't bleed out, I'll likely die of an infection. I was too careless. I should've kept a better eye out for guards.

_ Do you really believe chastising yourself is going to matter? _ admonished the voice.

_Certainly won't hurt me any more than I already am,_Dougal thought back.

After moving a couple feet, he had to stop. He shifted and instead leaned his shoulder against the wall of whatever building he was up against. He thought about trying to pull the bolt out of his back if he could get the leverage to do it, but he feared that doing so would make him bleed out quicker.

I can't die here. There's too many people counting on me for me to die. My guild needs me. My home needs me. Dad, Laren, anybody! What should I do?

The sound of rushing footsteps from down the alleyway made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He tried to look up, but the wound made it painful to either twist around or move too quickly.

"You poor man!" the stranger said. "Do you need help?"

Out of the corner of Dougal's eyes, he could see a wall of silk and fur moving towards him. He tried to turn to face whatever was closing in on him, but hands as big as his arms grabbed him, keeping him steady.

Dougal wanted to say, "Ma'am, if I may be crass, I have a bolt lodged in my back. Of course I need help!" but he could scarcely form the words necessary to do so. What actually came out of his mouth ended up being barely a whisper.

"No..."

The giant woman was silent for a moment, and Dougal wondered what she was thinking. He wished he could see her face so that maybe he could glean some understanding that way. However, he couldn't turn around. It simply hurt too much.

"We need to remove this right away." She sounded almost motherly.

"No... don't!" Dougal pleaded. He wasn't unaccustomed to pain, but usually it was much more superficial. He'd never had one of his organs torn up or punctured before, and the bolt had hurt worse than a thousand bee stings. He shuddered to think about what it would be like while it was being pulled back out.

"It can't stay in. It must come out." She didn't wait for him to protest again. She planted one hand firmly against Dougal's back with her thumb and forefinger forming an L-shape around the wound. The other hand got a firm grip of the bolt's shaft. "I'd suggest trying to clench your teeth so you don't scream. I imagine you don't want to draw attention to yourself."

_ What are you doing? Stop her before she causes us to bleed out! _

We're dead either way, why suffer any more than we have to? he shot back.

Dougal did as the woman told him, and was caught by surprise as he felt a sharp tug. Tears lined his eyes as searing pain shot through every part of his body. It radiated from his wound in increasing intensity. He shut his eyes tight and cringed. He pressed his jaw closed as hard as he could, and he felt as if he was about to break every tooth in his mouth from the pressure alone. Little grunts and short breaths escaped his lips.

_ Stop her, now! _

Why don't you do it yourself? The voice didn't respond.

The process of removing the bolt was slow. It was a lifetime of pain spanning barely a minute of time. He could feel the tip waver and poke his insides as it moved by even the slightest amount, causing new lacerations in his lung. He feared it might get too close to his heart and end his life right then.

"It's alright," the woman cooed, "It's almost out. Just hang in there for a little longer."

But Dougal couldn't do it. He couldn't hold back any longer as he started to scream. His throat quickly went hoarse and red hot tears rolled down his cheeks, becoming lost in the forest of his beard. With one final tug, the bolt came loose and he could feel fresh blood spilling from his wounds quickly with his accelerated heart rate.

This is it, he thought grimly, This is how I'm going to die. In the hands of a fuzzy angel.

He thought the mystery woman was going to leave him like that, or at least apply some bandages, but she surprised him with what she did next. She began to speak in a strange, foreign language as she applied pressure to the wound.

"Xenar-sama, kore wa otoko no hito wo tasukeru you ni o negai shimasu!"

Dougal wasn't sure what was going on, because she started lightly rubbing his back. What had she said? He couldn't be sure, as he'd never heard the language before. Was she muttering to herself? Maybe she was performing his last rites.

Then, Dougal began to realize that the pain was diminishing. At first he was certain that it was a trick of the mind, but as his lung was restored, he gasped in large breaths as he could finally breathe again. The throbbing where he struck his head faded, and he felt a comfortable warmth envelope him, as if he were wrapped in a blanket of light. Dougal felt an itch on his back where his stab wound was, like the skin was being sutured closed. Most importantly though, there was no more pain.

"You... healed me?" Dougal said, his mind unable to comprehend such a turn of events. He looked up at the sky and sniffled. A silent prayer of thanks to Laren escaped his lips before he turned to see who his saviour was.

"You're a Xenarian, aren't you?" Dougal said when he saw the ursar kneeling beside him.

"Yes, I am," she replied. Her golden, beady eyes looked down her short muzzle at him. Her hair, as ebony as a starless sky, was braided and fell down her left shoulder.Other than the spot of beige on her muzzle, the woman was covered in grizzled brown fur. Her robes were tinted pink and were stained in places to create a beautiful floral pattern in the silk.

Dougal tested moving his shoulder, rolling it one way, then back the other. It didn't hurt one bit.

"What is a Xenarian priest doing in Altair?"

"I'm a refugee," she said sadly. "We fled here when the Legion destroyed Yasuragi."

"Oh." Dougal suddenly felt stupid for asking such an insensitive question. He'd heard about an army conquering the Xenarian's island empire, but it never clicked that there might have been refugees. Suddenly, he was reminded of Olaraa, and he wondered how his homeland was faring through the war. There'd been no news in months, and that meant things weren't going well. Whatever was going on in the north, he hoped it wouldn't mess up his plans.

Dougal cleared his throat then, feeling awkward, he said, "Thank you for healing me. I really appreciate it."

"There's no thanks needed. I didn't do anything special," the ursar woman assured him. "I'm only living life according to the All-Healer's teachings."

Nodding, Dougal tried to stand. He promptly fell back down as he was overcome by a wave of dizziness. The ursar caught him and eased him back down until he was sitting again.

"You've lost a lot of blood," she stated simply, rubbing his back again as he leaned forward and panted. "You need to relax for a bit."

"I have companions waiting for me. I can't stay here."

"The guards are gone," she told him. "They went chasing after someone else."

Dougal felt momentarily terrified. "How did you know they were after me?"

"It's not every day we see people in this part of town with a crossbow bolt in their backs just shortly after the city guard storms through."

"Touche," Dougal remarked quietly. He had to admit that he was tired after the whole ordeal. Not to mention he was feeling out of sorts and not like his usual jovial self. His stomach growled and reminded him that he was still hungry, too.

"Why would you help me if you knew the guards were searching for me?"

The ursar helped him to his feet, and kept a hand on him at all times to ensure he didn't fall over again. Dougal thought that her touch was soft and gentle, and he felt more at ease in her care.

"I helped because you were a life in danger, and I can't turn my back on someone in need. It would violate everything that Xenar has bidden me to do."

" And how do you know I won't use the opportunity to rob or kill you?" The words flew from Dougal's mouth before he even realized what was happening. He clapped his hand over his mouth, trying to stifle any further antagonizing remarks.

The ursar shrugged her shoulders, unable to offer a suitable response to his question. She didn't seem to be put off by the remark, either.

"Sorry. I guess I should just be grateful then that you were here when you were," Dougal said. "So, thank you, Miss... uh..."

"I'm sorry!" the ursar apologized profusely, hanging her head in apparent shame. "I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Maika Nakamura. You can just call me Maika if you'd like. I think your people prefer to call others by their given names, don't you?"

Dougal hesitated, not sure whether he should give the healer his name. It wouldn't be long until posters would be all over the place about him, though he supposed it didn't matter if she already knew that the guards were after him.

"Dougal McManus," the dwarf said, offering his hand to shake. His arm moved slowly and shakily, and he could feel the onset of a headache. He needed water.

Maika never took his hand, and instead bowed her head lightly. She was still helping to hold him up, and was guiding him out of the alleyway. Most of the apprehension that Dougal was feeling had begun to fade, but he was still on edge. All it would take was one guard, one bolt, and he'd be done for. Not only that, but the last thing he wanted to do was to have this kindly healer implicated in aiding a criminal.

Even if he was wrongfully accused, he still knew and understood that he was considered a thief by most everyone else. It didn't matter to them if he was a devout follower of Laren, or what his reasons were. All they cared about was the value of their treasured belongings and the power that granted them, even if their riches were built upon the sweat and bodies of the lower classes.

"We should get you inside to clean you up," Maika suggested as the emerged from between the buildings and made a left, heading towards the smaller of the two. "We'll get you something to eat as well."

"I don't want to trouble you, Maika." He hated to accept charity, especially from someone who probably didn't have a lot of money themselves. He could tell she wasn't well off except for whatever belongings she had brought with her from Yasuragi.

"It's no trouble at all. It wouldn't be good for my conscience if I allowed you to leave without first making sure you can make it back home on your own." She glanced around her as they headed up the front steps into the seemingly normal looking home. Her voice lowered to a whisper and she added, "Besides, I imagine you're going to need every ounce of strength to get out of here. Am I wrong?"

"No," Dougal admitted. He began to think about how he would let Jinn know about what was going on and what had happened to him, but then he wondered if Jinn himself was doing okay. The illusion spell he'd cast had taken a while to work, and a lot of concentration. It would be unlikely that he'd manage to cloak himself in another illusion while being chased, and even if he had been able to, wouldn't they recognize him?

"You are worried for your friend." Maika wasn't asking a question, and it became apparent that it was more of a statement.

"How can you tell?"

"We Xenarians are gifted. We can get a general feel about the emotions of people around us." Maika produced a key from a hidden pocket in her robe and unlocked the door. "It can be an incredibly useful talent for a person in my profession."

Dougal paused for a moment. "Yeah, I am worried about someone."

"A fellow criminal?" she asked. Her casual indifference in her choice of words suggested she wasn't judging him for it.

Dougal winced at the remark none-the-less. "An important friend."

"I'm sure he'll be fine. Right now, we should worry about you." She pushed the door open, and the scents of lavender incense wafted from inside. The wooden flooring was covered by a square of some kind matting that looked to be made of straw. A couple other ursar were sitting cross legged, quiet as he and Maika entered the room.

Maika motioned for Dougal to follow down a short hallway and into a separate room. She closed the door behind them and helped Dougal lie down on a bed that was many sizes too big for his tiny body. It was a simple mat resting on the ground. He assumed that perhaps they couldn't afford to have a bed frame constructed that would be sturdy enough for their large bodies.

"It sure is cramped in here," Dougal noted.

The bed was against one wall, beneath a window, while the head and foot of the mat was nearly touching another two walls. That left a tiny space of flooring to store the rest of Maika's belongings.

"We make do," Maika shrugged, as if the prospect of being crammed in what must've amounted to a coffin to her was an everyday thing. "It doesn't bother us so much as being away from our homeland."

"Who were those people in the other room?" Dougal asked.

"One is my younger brother, and the other is a mutual friend of ours. We're all priests of Xenar." She got up after Dougal was settled in and moved to the door. "I'll be back in a moment with some water. You should remove your clothes so we can get you cleaned up."

Dougal didn't have a chance to sputter any sort of embarrassed response as Maika glided out of the room. He didn't think himself unattractive (rather, it was quite the opposite), but he didn't feel comfortable getting half naked in front of someone he didn't know. And of a different species.

Maika returned a few moments later with a bucket sloshing with water. She set it down next to the bed, and dropped a cloth inside before she knelt down again. She gave a reproachful look at the dwarf, who had only just removed his coat.

"You're going to have to remove your tunic as well."

Dougal slowly did as she asked, but kept his head bowed. It had been a strange day. He wasn't feeling like himself, and he was not normally so bashful. After panicking in the market, having to deal with being shot, and being indecent around a woman though, he didn't feel as if it were warranted to feel normal.

"Your apprehension is normal," Maika said to him as she waited. "But it's alright, it's nothing I haven't seen before."

"With all due respect, Miss, I don't picture you've met many dwarves, let alone one's like me," Dougal said sadly. He lifted his arms and tossed the clothing aside, and heard Maika gasp.

"Unless dwarven males are built differently than ursar males, it's truly nothing new."

"I have a lot less hair on my chest," Dougal pointed out as he held onto his shirt, afraid of letting the bloodied garment touch her bed or flooring.

The ursar was silent as she stared at him, her eyes flitting over his chest and stomach. Feeling a little more bold, the dwarf said, "Aye lass, take it all in. Ye ain't seen a dwarf o' me calibre b'fore, 'ave ye?" He purposefully put his accent on thick, just for the effect.

"What are those tattoos?" she asked.

Dougal looked down at his solid, round body. He could see the circle of runes that began from the top of his navel and ended just below his pectorals. Certainly the most striking feature of the tattoo wasn't what it was or how big it was, but rather, that it looked like it was drawn in blood, and appeared to be bleeding. The inside of the runic circle had a triangular design contained within it, and that itself had a symbol tattooed in it: A hand clutching at several coins. It was the symbol of Laren's most loyal followers, those who actually believed in the Patron of Thieves' teachings.

"They were a gift from my father, and from my church," Dougal replied. He didn't want to get into a discussion about what the tattoo actually represented, and hoped that she would leave it at that.

He felt relieved when she took a moment to compose herself and reached into the bucket to grab the cloth. "You'll need to sit up so I can clean your wound."

As Dougal sat up. He could feel cloth sticking to his back and realized that he'd already made a mess of her bed with the blood that had been there. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"You're a humble and polite man, Dougal," Maika remarked and wrung the cloth out, letting the excess water fall into the bucket. "What would a person like you be doing being chased by the guards?"

"Do you really wish to know?" Dougal asked. Before she could respond, he swiftly added, "I'm not afraid to tell you, but I'm sure you'd rather not know and get caught up in my proble- That's cold!" The cloth touched his back and began to wash away the blood, but the water was almost freezing cold and it interrupted his thoughts.

"Sorry," Maika said. "I didn't think I'd have time to heat it up before your blood started to get too dry."

Dougal motioned her to hand him the bucket. "Give it here for a second. There we go. I can help with that a bit." He waved his hand over the top and spoke the words to a spell. "Verus." A jolt of flame jumped between him and the bucket. The water bubbled for a moment, but then settled as a steam rose from its surface.

"See? No harm done," Dougal said, beaming at her with a false sort of pride.

"Your tattoo shines when you use magic?" Maika asked as she re-soaked the cloth with the now warm water. "So then it is magical in nature."

"That's because of these runes here." He indicated the sketches on the inside of the circle. "I'm not sure why they do that though. My dad never explained that to me."

"Why did he give it to you?"

"It was a parting gift before he died."

Maika slowed in her scrubbing for a second, then continued. "I see. I am sorry to hear that."

Dougal shrugged his shoulders. "There wasn't anything anyone could've done to help him. There had been a great plague at the time and he happened to catch it. I was already old enough to take care of myself by the time my father contracted it, and I had to help take care of him as he withered away before my eyes.

"The worst part of it, though," he continued, "Was never really getting an opportunity to understand him as a person. He always asked me questions about myself, invited me to be open with him, and taught me Laren's teachings. But he rarely talked about himself or what he did. In hindsight I suppose he was involved in a lot of criminal activity, but I'm still not certain about that."

Maika rinsed the cloth, causing the water in the bucket to turn a faded red color. "He sounds like he was a good father, your suspicions aside."

"Aye, that he was." Dougal was beginning to develop a far away look, as if he could stare hard enough to peer into the past and watch the memories coursing through his mind play out before him. "On his final days, he etched these tattoos on me, and charged me with upholding Laren's teachings in his place, because he couldn't do it himself. He was dead the next day."

The ursar priest continued to work in silence from then on, cleaning off the blood from Dougal's back. When she was finished, he stood up and grabbed not only the bucket, but his blood-soaked clothing.

"Thank you for sharing your story with me," Maika said, bowing her head. "I'm going to clean these for you and have them ready for you tomorrow. I know you don't want to rest when your friend may be in danger, but I think it would be best to wait as you need time to recover."

"Won't your companions mind?" Dougal asked, apprehensive of her offer. A part of him still didn't want to remain in her care, as he was desperate to get back in contact with Jinn and make sure the gnoll was okay.

"It won't be a problem, don't worry about it. Get some sleep and we can talk in the morning."

"Oh. Okay..." Dougal said. He laid back down on the mat as she shut the door behind her, leaving him to wonder if it was truly safe to remain in her home or not. The news of a dwarven thief running amok in the city wouldn't take long to circulate around the various neighborhoods. He couldn't allow himself to be seen in Maika's house and risk getting her and her family caught up in his mess.

He decided that he wouldn't leave his fate in their hands. As soon as the sun was completely set and everyone had gone to sleep, he would sneak out the window and be long gone before any of them awoke.