White like that of virgin snow, his hair was sprawled across the pillow which held his head in place. Three days have gone by since he lost consciousness, three nights.
As he slowly regains his consciousness, he tries to turn but a searing pain stops his moments abruptly, and his eyes shot open.
Red, there's no color except different hues of red in his eyes, his iris is red, even the pupils are red. They shifted side to side, soaking up the environment around them, thatched roof and wooden walls are all that he can see, aside from some decorations on the walls and some furniture.
He tries to move his arms, but alas he is to weak to even do that, so he closes his eyes once more. He can feel how his whole body, starts to ache, and soon his head starts to ache as well. All he can do now, is to give out a defeated grunt.
The boy slowly parted his parched lips and said "Ty...ra..el" his words barley escaping his lips, and he closed his eyes once more.
He laid motionless for sometime, but soon he heard a door opening, and some light footsteps followed, as they came closer to where he laid, he began to open his weary eyes to see a girl no older then ten, looking down at him and when her eyes meet his she dropped the wooden bowl she was holding, spilling out it's contents on the floor and began to run out the same door she came from.
If he could roll his eyes he would, but he simply closed them again waiting to see what happens. The door opened once more, but this time he could hear that there was someone else then the girl that ran.
"Father! Father! You must see! He's awake! And he's eyes were red like blood! You must see!" said the little girl, while dragging her father towards, the boy's bed.
The boy opened his eyes to see what was coming, a big man entered his field of view. He would guess he was similar to age like that of Trygve, the man he had killed over a week ago. And he was nearly as brawny as the warrior too, but he could see that his days as a warrior were in the mans past.
"You sure have strange eyes, lad." A deep voice resonated from the man.
"Wa...ter" was the reply the boy gave. The man looked at him for a while before turning to his daughter, and asked her "Can you fetch this young lad some water, dear?"
The man moved a chair beside the bed, facing the boy. Where he sat down making the wooden chair slightly creek from his weight and looked at the boy, he's face and eyes were neutral, not showing any emotions the man might have. And so they waited in silence, until the little girl came back with a mug filled with water.
She reached out and gestured for the boy to take the mug, but he just stared at it for a while. Before long the Father of the girl stood up, and took the mug from his daughter's hands. Bringing it cautiously, to the boy's parched mouth and helped him, with drinking it's contents.
When it was emptied he gave the mug to his daughter, who was watching them with curious eyes, and shooed her away before he sat down at the chair once more. They Locked eyes with each other, "So..... How did you end up with all those wounds exactly? Boy." The man said with his deep baritone voice.
"A wolf" Was the answer the boy gave the man, "A wolf you say.... But what of the others? Surely a wolf, can't have made those" Said the man, while leaning his back against the chair, stroking his long and well groomed beard. The boy stayed silent, until the man broke it. "Hmmm, can you fight?" said the man. "People that is."
The boy smirked and said "I have killed", which caused the man to rise an eyebrow, before he slapped his knee and began to laugh. "Hahahahahaha" after laughing for awhile, he wiped away the tears from his eyes and said "You sure are funny lad!! What's your name?"
The boy stared at the man, baffled and with his mouth agape. The man smiled and said "You can call me Gunarr." The boy closed his mouth. And he closed his eyes for a moment before opening them again, and he said "Tyrael, that's the name that was given onto me."
Gunarr's brows furrowed, and he began to stoke his beard once more. "You sure are an interesting lad." He stopped stroking his beard and leaned in towards the bed and said "Tyrael." With a big smile plastered on his face.
He stood up and began to stretch his arms, and he said "Food will be served soon. You can chew, right?" A smile began to form on Tyrael's weary face, as he answered "Yes"
Tyrael's stomach began to grumble indicating that, he was indeed hungry. He had nothing to eat for three days, and the days before that, were not filled with the most nutritious of foods. For the wolfs meat did not last him long.
Gunarr began to chuckle while making his way to the outside. Soon enough the air began to smell like roasted chicken, oh, how long it has been since he had chicken. He did not have to wait for long before Gunarr's daughter came through the door with a bowl of steaming chicken. His mouth salivating, his stomach began to grumble louder and he could feel that strength has returned to his arms.
As she put forth the bowl, she could see how he began to reach for the bowl with his shaking and outstretched arm. She noticed how the tip of his index finger were missing, which caused her to gulped nervously, as he took the bowl from her hands. "Thanks." Tyrael said, with a weak voice.
He ate the grilled chicken as if it was his last meal in Midgard (earth), he savored the taste as best he could, but his long abstinens from food made it hard not to stuff his mouth full.
When he had finished the food, he returned the bowl to the girl, who looked at him with her mouth agape, she had never seen someone eat anything so fast. She had thought, that her father ate his food quickly, how naive of her. She was temporarily lost in her thoughts, but she quickly regained her posture when she noticed him holding out the empty bowl to her, which she promptly and ran straight out the door.
He did not think much of it, so he tucked in his arm next to him and closed his eyes. And soon enough, slumber came quickly, and he soon found himself in the land of dreams.