(no subject)

Look, Haurchefant would just like it to be known that it doesn't count as either reckless bravery or bravado if you genuinely don't realize how badly you're injured until the fighting is over. He'd finished up fighting one of the several recent waves of dragons on the Steps of Faith, and it wasn't until the end, flush with victory, that he'd found the stones rushing up to meet him. Really, though, he'll live and it's more than he can say for a number of other brave companions out there and the victory is worth the pain. He could have done without being carried into Camp Dragonhead on a stretcher, thank you, but the chirurgeons had absolutely forbade him to walk right now, even a short distance and, perhaps knowing him a bit too well, one of them had accompanied him to see to it he obeyed.

He's not quite sure he deserves a hero's welcome, being carried in, but he rallies his spirits anyway and greets a good many people stationed in Dragonhead before his doctors finally manage to wave everyone off enough to get him situated in bed. The wounds will heal, they assure him, but only if he rests.

He discovers, that first night at least, that it isn't actually all that difficult to follow their orders. By the time they get him to his room and he's settled, everything is a blur of exhaustion and he drops off to sleep before he's even fully aware that he's in bed.