Set after Drunk Dial, and What You Asked For
I buried my blade in the back of a Goblin’s neck, washing as the creature collapsed forward like a puppet with its strings severed. Around me lay the hacked and dismembered bodies of several of the beasts - a small pack that I had run across while roaming through the countryside. While they had not been my prey, these things were quite firmly beasts, terrible ones. I'd long heard of the destruction that Goblins would eagerly wage on whoever they came across. I had no compunction against slaughtering some of these monsters.

And it distracted me, for a bit, from the tumult in my head. I'd slipped away after the ‘confrontation’ with Philomel - the goat woman had been slowly recovering from her emotional breakdown when I saw her last. I myself was - dealing with the realization that the people who had trained me had fully intended that I die, alone and unloved. Neither of us really in a good place to talk with the other. So I'd left, because - she didn't need me. She had others. And I needed to get out, get away, to lose myself in just hunting as I worked through the revelation I'd had.

But something had been bothering me. The stone, embedded in my thigh - it had never buzzed. Never moved, never warmed - it remained still, and silent. The owner of its mate had not yet reached out to me. And I - was beginning to grow concerned. Because the last I had seen her - well. She'd been dead, hanging from that bastard’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Despite myself, I felt my knuckles shift, tightening my grip on the Saw-Spear as I thought of that fucker. I devoted myself to hunting beasts, to preventing them. And that bastard was - he was forcing her further and further down that route.

I took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. I'd been passive here long enough. I'd given her time - some of it because she'd told me, shown me, exactly what awaited her at her ‘Master’s’ hands. And some because, well. I'd been trying to figure out myself. That torn up woman didn't need a friend who was still trying to figure out his own head, and his own emotions. But… I… I was a bit more stable now. I'd come to terms with what I knew of my past, with what I had realized. And I?

I spat in their face. In my bag, was something she had asked for. A form-fitting, flared coat, festooned with pockets like my own, with places for knives and spikes. And treated to repel fluid, to shed them with ease. It gave the fabric an odd, almost oily sheen - but it also made it a bit more durable. I'd considered layering the drake scales onto it as well, to provide extra armor for her, but - I hadn't found someone who could do it just yet. I'd decided to confirm the connection, and be her friend, so this… was a gift for her. I exhaled slowly.

It was.. Surprisingly difficult to think that. To think that I - I, actually wanted a friend. And of course, one of the first people I wanted to be friends with needed my help - she teetered on the edge of losing herself, and the person she was beholden to did not seem to care at all. And - she would likely never accept if I told her flat out I wanted to be her friend. She had had the resistance to bonds with people pounded into her just as much as I had, and unlike me, she was still trapped with those responsible. But.
But the cracks had lessened, when she curled into my lap for a night. They had lessened, as we laughed and joked together after - well, fought together and then had a rather unique encounter by a river. My hand curled tighter. I wanted to help her. And by whatever the hell was out there. I would. And I would stop sitting around waiting like a moron. I pressed my knuckles against my thigh.

“Dawn girl, you there?” I cleared my throat. “Dawn girl?” Geh. That was an odd sensation from this end, opening up the communication felt like it was drawing on me.

There was a sound, what felt like static in my head and then the chilling sounds of someone choking. One I knew all too well. She was suffocating on her own blood. My eyes went wide. [I]DAWN GIRL! SUMMON ME![I] Fuck! Fuck!

I felt a weak pull. I gave in to it, gladly.