Crimson Cocoon
Fighting off the frigid hand of death is no easy feat but if anyone has the tenacity to go face to face with death itself... It's Red.
Every moment that passed by was another moment diligently watched over by Red, casting his benevolent eye over Zane's sickly frame, ready to start an all-out offensive towards anyone who dared to interfere.
A scowl was permanently etched into his face like deeply carved stone and his once concealed wings were uncontrollably sprawled open, pulsating and eager as if awaiting further conflict. Ready at any moment to cocoon Zane's tiny body beneath their vast dimensions.
Days turned to weeks in their hidden refuge but still Red refused to abandon his duty, depriving himself of even the basics of food, water and sleep, instead choosing to draw on his connection to the Oblivion realm to sustain himself. The stress left him dishevelled and worn but his focus never waivered.
Not well versed in the art of healing magic, Red used the only powers he knew, those of the flame. Conjuring harmless kindling spells that seek more to ward off the icy hands of death more than anything else.
Eventually, these gently warming spells gave Zane enough strength to get to his feet, if only for a very brief moment. Enough progress to bring a smirk to Red's face but not enough for him to let his guard down for even a second.
Zane remained frail and unable to speak but still his affection for his big demon pal shone through, if only through soft eye contact and delicate smiles.
Times were tough for the duo with Zane spending most of his days too exhausted to move from the cradling wings of his friend.
Still, Red continued to do the only thing that mattered to him. Protecting the little man at all costs.
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