Over the next two days we flew, the weather getting warmer as we headed farther south. On the third day, just at sunset, we landed. Ranulf fell, panting, onto the ground and started attempting to massage his stiff shoulders. Hanging from the claws of a Phoenix is not the most relaxing of activities. He could hardly move his arms.
I walked over to him, working my cold, hard hands at his shoulders. He groaned, his thoughts switching back and forth between pain and pleasure as I tried to relax the muscles. I sighed, “You ripped some of the muscles when you fell asleep.”
Ouch, he winced mentally as I measured his range of motion, pulling his arm around, side-to-side, up-and-down.
I sighed again, “That was a bad idea.”
Hey, at least you aren’t alone, he thought, pained.
I chuckled, “There’s a point where friendship brooks onto insanity, Ranulf.” He attempted to shrug, and winced in pain. I sighed, “I’ll go look for some herbs to make a compress for you.”
He winced as he laid down, Thanks, Fae.