A hand reached through the pried-open maw of the creature, and pulled the boy free. As he was pulled, the boy screamed loud as the knife, still thrust through his hand, resisted the movement.
The large and calloused hand of Drun carefully removed the knife from its position. The man caught the boy with his other hand as he began to slip into the throat of the creature. The boy's panicked breaths and small whimpers of fear didn't cease, even as he was freed from the mouth, and into the fresh air around him.
In fact, it only served to solidify the experience as real in the boy's mind.
For what felt like an eternity, the boy panted rapidly, struggling more and more to breathe with each passing moment. It was too much: too terrifying, too painful, and too close for him to handle at the mere age of seven.
A large hand wrapped around his shoulder and gave the boy somewhere to place his weight. He fell into the one-armed hug completely, burying his crying eyes in his bloodied, sack-made shirt. His breathing still hadn't slowed, and the crying even caused him to choke a few times, as he curled up into a ball.
As if trying to hide himself in the man's shadow, he pulled his legs close to his chest, and applied pressure to his bleeding hand. The pain from being stabbed through was almost mind-numbing, and he pushed his knees into his palm as if trying to squeeze the pain out of his hand.
Suddenly, though, the shadow he hid in moved, and the boy cowered almost instinctively. His hand was pulled free of his knees and into the open air. His palm flared up in stinging pain, enough to cause him more screams, as something was poured onto the wound.
"Sorry, little one. We can't have that get infected."
The deep voice of Drun didn't help much to alleviate the pain, but at least it seemed like the pain would help for some reason. So, the boy did his best to endure.
Once the pain had subsided slightly, Drun used some rough cloth to wrap around the boy's palm. While not gentle enough for a child's hand, the wrapping was neat, as if it was something he'd done to people before. Still, it was pulled very tight, and the boy winced in pain as the knot of cloth was finished.
"Oh, sorry, child. I haven't aided someone of your age before, let me make it a little better for you."
The man's large hands fumbled slightly with the knot on the back of the boy's hand, loosening it with a bit of force - enought to yank the boy's arm around a few times.
"There we go. Can you stand?"
The boy wiped his eyes a little bit, looking up at the kneeling man's face.
Drun's eyes were rather cold, or angry, or maybe some feeling the boy didn't understand yet. His face had no smile drawn on it, standing across his face sternly. His eyebrows were furrowed and pointed towards his nose, with some wrinkles on his brow looming above them.
He didn't look kind, but the boy couldn't help but see him that way regardless.
The boy pushed himself up with his good hand, straining the bones in his back as he stood on his feet. He looked to the man, awaiting his next instruction.
"...Good job survivng, boy. That wasn't easy, what you just did."
The boy's eyes welled up again. But, wanting to be more like the man before him, he held them back with deep inhales. He looked down, and noticed the man's right arm was... he didn't know, really.
Drun's right arm was covered in black gloss that originated from the palm, reaching in stark lines up towards his biceps. The arm looked considerably thinner and shakier than his left, with less muscle than had been there the last time the boy had seen him.
As if not noticing the state of his arm, Drun continued to speak.
"Do you have a name?"
The boy paused for a while, trying to remember something. Again, though, his mind couldn't reach whatever it had been looking for.
After not getting a response, Drun continued.
"Then, maybe I can give you one, for now."
The boy looked up, expectantly, a hint of excitement showing in the way his posture straightened at the announcement.
"Hmm..." Drun was lost in thought for a moment, and extended a finger towards a bump on the boy's forehead. A dull pain reverberated just under the skin as Drun poked at the bruise, and the boy winced and recoiled.
"Welt..?"
The boy looked back at the man, with eyes that were truly unimpressed. He shook his head violently.
"...No? Well, I like it, Welt!"
The boy jumped up and down, shaking his head, pushing against Drun's good arm in protest.
Drun scratched the back of his head.
"Sorry, Welt. I'm not good with names, but this is probably temporary, anyways. I'm sure you'll get given a nice name at an orphanage soon. It's not like we will be together for long."
The boy, Welt, stood still at this. As Drun stood up, Welt clung tightly to the leg of the man's trousers as they moved back to the main group.
At least he was with him now.
***
Welt awoke suddenly and felt trapped. His neck was wrapped tightly by something, and his arms were pulled back, pulsing with the bloodflow of whatever was wrapping around them. His head was held tightly in place, as if grasped by a strong hand.
It was... snug.
Thank goodness he'd been kept so comfortable while he slept. Who'd want to be interrupted during their rest? Sure, his arms had felt like they were in pain as he woke up, but that was gone now. If they really hurt, then he wouldn't have slept so well, right?
Welt looked at his surroundings through hazy eyes. Scuffed and torn up grass lay before him, like it had been attacked or scratched at. And, within that grass, was a faint blue light.
'A... Lantern? That shouldn't be here, it's dangerous.'
Welt moved his legs, preparing to get up and away from the lit lantern. Who'd light such a thing willingly in a Fog like this? It would only attract monsters, and then Welt would be killed.
He moved and struggled a lot, pushing his legs against the ground more and more furiously, kicking up chunks of dirt with his heavy body. However, he couldn't quite get a foothold.
He had to get away. Even if he could rest so... so well here, it would all be meaningless if he was eaten in his sleep.
Well... maybe... the creature would protect him?
'Wait... what creature? There is nothing on my shoulders, or wrapped around my neck, or my arms, or squeezing the life force from my skull.'
Welt was defenseless from the coming monsters, with nothing to protect him.
As Welt tiredly considered all this, with a mind poisoned and lethargic, his nose caught the smell of something foul and pungent. A scent he'd known many times.
A monster was approaching him.