A rp for anyone and anything

Drake: *dying*

 

Skilar: -Wraps the bandage tight enough so it stops the bleeding, but loose enough for him to breathe-

 

Drake: *still unconscious*

 

Skilar: -Sits on the bed until he gains consciousness-

 

Drake: *gains consciousness* shit I'm alive

 

Drake: where's my sword?

 

Drake: I need to do something with it

 

Skilar: We don't trust you with it.. -Looks distant an on the edge of crying-

 

Drake: *jumps out the window*

 

Skilar: Hand the sword to me. Now.

 

Drake: *his much better poems on his bed*

 

Skilar: Hand it to me.

 

Skilar: I won't. -Teleports to the forest- My fault, my fault...