Revy Gray Warped World Reflections

Revy nodded solemnly. "I don't have parasites," he said, a slight bitterness in his voice. "That was actually one of the reasons why I was ostracized from the village." He paused, the weight of his words hanging in the air. "That's a long story and a topic for another time," he added, his gaze turning to Lugin before him.

The creature studied him for a moment, his moonlit eyes seeming to peer into the very essence of his being. "I haven't talked to anyone in a long time," he said finally, his voice a gentle whisper through the leaves. "Thank you for not being afraid of me and for listening to me," he added, tears dripping from his eyes like dew on a leaf.

Despite the creature's terrifying form, Revy felt a strange kinship with Luggin. "You're welcome," he said, his voice firm but full of kindness. "But you can't stay here forever."

Luggin nodded sadly, his eyes never leaving Revy's. "I know," he murmured. "But where would I go? The world out there is not kind to those who are different."

The fire crackled, throwing shadows across the creature's bruised and torn skin, making it look even more monstrous than before. But the swordsman in Revy saw past the exterior to the suffering soul within.

"How long does it take for your body to regenerate?" he asked, his mind racing with the possibilities.

"I think about 5 hours," Lugin replied, her eyes sparkling in the firelight.

Revy's gambling mind worked quickly, calculating the risks and rewards of the situation. He looked at Luggin, his expression unreadable. "I have a plan," he finally said, his voice a mixture of determination and indecision. "But this will be painful, can you stand it?"

Lugin's moonlit eyes searched hers, searching for any sign of deception. But all he saw was a steely determination, a promise that showed he meant what he said. Luggin took a deep breath and nodded. "I trust you," he murmured.

Revy's gaze never wavered. "Good," he said, his voice low and firm. "Because we're going to need all the trust we can get." He turned to Dori, gently shaking her shoulder. "Wake up," he whispered. "We have a...guest."

Dori's eyes shot open, her heart racing at the sight of the creature. But as she saw the calmness in Revy's eyes, she took a deep breath to steady herself. She sat up, rubbing sleep from her eyes, and took in the sight of Lu-gin. Her initial fear faded to curiosity as she took in the creature's torn and bruised body, the smell of decay replaced by the faint scent of the poisonous plants that had become his sustenance.

"You're okay," Revy assured her, his hand on her shoulder. "This is Lu-gin. He's got his own story, and we're going to help him."

Dori swallowed hard, her eyes wide with fear and wonder as she took in the creature before her. She nodded, her resolve setting like a stone. "Okay," she whispered, her voice trembling.

Revy's swordsman persona took over as he spoke to Luggin. "This will be painful, but it's necessary," he said, his voice steady and calm. "We're going to fix your feet, so you can walk like everyone else again."

Dori stared at Luggin in shock, but she nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. She gently held onto Luggin's ankles as instructed, her hands trembling slightly with nerves. Luggin looked at her with gratitude, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

Revy's swordsman persona took charge, his movements swift and precise as he pulled out a small knife from his travel pack. "This is going to hurt," he warned, his voice a gentle whisper that seemed to carry the weight of a thousand storms. With a swift cut, he severed the twisted flesh that had grown around Luggin's feet, his hand steady despite the tremble that threatened to betray him. The creature's eyes rolled back in his head, but he made no sound, his trust in Revy absolute.

Dori's eyes watered at the sight of the blood, her grip on Luggin's ankles tightening as she bit her lip. Yet she held firm, her fear for the creature's well-being overriding any personal discomfort. The smell of coppery blood mixed with the earthy scent of the forest floor, creating a heady aroma that seemed to pulse with the beat of their hearts.

As Dori held Luggin's ankles, she watched in awe as the skin around the freshly cut wounds began to knit itself back together. The creature's body trembled with the effort of regeneration, but his eyes remained closed, lost in some internal struggle.

The swordsman in Revy took the cloth and began to wrap Luggin's feet, his movements swift and sure. The fabric was coarse, but it was all they had to offer in this wilderness. He tied it tightly, hoping it would be enough to hold the feet in their correct position during the healing process.

Dori's voice was filled with a mixture of surprise and dismay: "Why didn't he think of this before?" he whispered.

Revy looked up from what she was doing, her eyes meeting his in the firelight. simply. "You can't expect someone who's been through bad things to think straight." His hand rested on Luggin's leg for a moment, as if silently apologizing for the pain he had caused.

Dori nodded slowly, her question hanging in the air like an unspoken apology. "I guess not," he muttered, his eyes never leaving Lugin's face. Lugin's breathing was shallow, his body tensed with pain as the regeneration process progressed.

Revy finished wrapping Lugin's feet and stood up, handing the cloth to Dori. "Keep pressure on them," he instructed, his voice gentle but firm. "It's going to take a while, but it'll be worth it."