10
VRUHAG
I couldn’t stop staring at the golden rings around my wrist. They were bright against my green skin, reminding me of the permanent war paint of my ancestors. Right next to the golden markings were the bite marks, four tiny puncture wounds that had only bled one drop of blood each.
The little beastie had licked up the blood before I could stop it, and hadn’t stopped chittering happily since. I left it to its chirping and let my attention drift to our surroundings. I was still too weak to move, so knowing that predators were approaching wouldn’t help. Luckily, I couldn’t pick up on any threatening scents or sounds. For now, we were safe.
The tips of my fingers tingled. Was that a sign that the poison was disappearing from my blood stream? Or was it a symptom of something bad?
