Trevor watches with rapt attention, so he knows how to do this for next time. The cuts are deep, and ritualistic in nature; he's been carved up with symbols, and probably could use a lot of stitches. But there wasn't time, and he didn't really know how to reach the infirmary without bumping into yet another nightmare scenario. As he goes to take off his shirt entirely, Lark might catch a glimpse of red marks on his wrists - he'd been shackled down - and a litany of far older, pre-Barge scars from a lifetime of vampire hunting.
He grunts a little when the bandages are pulled off, and even as careful as Lark is, some congealed blood pools at the surface of them.
"Well, it all started when I was a kid who kept falling out of trees..."
"Was it John Seed?" It could be anyone. It could have been in any domain. Even knowing who caused it won't help; Lark can't do anything about it except for this.
What he really wants is just to keep Trevor talking so he has something to listen to while he works.
"Well, if you feel like evening the score..." Lark won't stop him. "I already told Tim to shake your hand if you do. I know I should be encouraging forgiveness but, frankly, that shit doesn't work in wolf packs and it might work here but I don't have it in me."
"Truth be told, I really just want to deck him across the face a few times." He shrugs a little, and starts to stand up, carefully.
"I don't kill people who don't kill, and this wasn't killing." He gestures to himself. "And I don't....that was torture. Hunters aren't supposed to torture. Plus, if I kill the rotten little bastard, he gets to feel like he's the victim. I think if I make him think he's going to be tortured, that's much better. Or worse."
A happy little shrug.
"Whatever. He's a fuck-off monster and I'm going to burn down everything he loves. It's fine."
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He grunts a little when the bandages are pulled off, and even as careful as Lark is, some congealed blood pools at the surface of them.
"Well, it all started when I was a kid who kept falling out of trees..."
He grins, trailing off.
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What he really wants is just to keep Trevor talking so he has something to listen to while he works.
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He sounds weirdly proud of himself.
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"I don't kill people who don't kill, and this wasn't killing." He gestures to himself. "And I don't....that was torture. Hunters aren't supposed to torture. Plus, if I kill the rotten little bastard, he gets to feel like he's the victim. I think if I make him think he's going to be tortured, that's much better. Or worse."
A happy little shrug.
"Whatever. He's a fuck-off monster and I'm going to burn down everything he loves. It's fine."
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"Well, keep me in the loop anyway."
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"You're a man among wolves, Lark."
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"Heard you the first time. Fucking mother wolf."