Grateful as he was for the help when it arrived, Jules couldn’t help wishing it might have been more useful. Not that it was the fault of either woman; they were strong enough, and capable enough, that a bound man should have presented little trouble between them. And with him atop the captive, well, most men would have stopped struggling by now. This, however, wasn’t a man. It looked like one. Felt like one too, all muscle and skin and hard bone. But those eyes wouldn’t leave him alone, even as he cursed and felt his bloody hand slipping as Samaire joined them. It slid under the woman’s boot and he swallowed a crude comment with difficulty, before renewing his own efforts. But it wasn’t working, so he just rolled onto his back and, with a gut feeling guided more by the desperation of not wanting to be in the wagon if the youth got loose, began to tear at his already ripped sleeve, and never mind the blood. “Hold him down there… Watch his hands.” They were tied, but somehow, the nails seemed sharp, and there was nothing covering them. Jules gasped out the words, neither point easy to hear, and neither really adding much by way of use. His hand was squished, his arm throbbed and he was feeling a little dizzy. Whether that was blood loss, shock or fatigue he couldn’t have said. Didn’t really care. He just needed an extra… hand to. get. this. darn. cloth… Finally, it gave way and he used his teeth to tear it loose. The fabric was half-soaked in blood, but so long as it served its purpose he didn’t care. “Here, where’s his head?” He scrambled back onto his knees, puffing out air he’d have preferred to keep in his lungs and stretched the strip of fabric between both hands, ignoring, as well as he was able, the readily understandable complaints of the bitten muscle. And when he saw an opening, he went for it, quickly wrapping the cloth over the lad’s eyes and tying it tight at the back. If he got hair stuck in the knot, he wasn’t overly concerned. It worked, after a moment, and Jules slumped back, just about ready to call it a day, as the thrashing settled into quivering stillness and the strange noises turned into choked off growls. --- He stopped, shaking and tense, every muscle straining, as everything went dark again. But the removal of light did not make his head stop hurting. It did not return the command of his limbs to him. And the cloth in his mouth made him gag as he tried to growl a warning at those still touching him. He continued twisting for a few moments more before his efforts gave out. He lay there, panting for breath against the cloth forced down his throat, terrified, now he couldn’t see, because his heartbeat and breathing combined too loudly to hear, and all he could feel was rough wood and hurt. He could smell blood though. Close and wet and out of reach. Blood on each breath, and fear that wasn’t his. Weight on his shoulders and back, pinning him down. Fingers, hands, humans. The pain at the back of his head swelled to run through the muscles of his neck until he lowered his cheek to the wooden floor beneath him. Then it simply curled up at the base of his skull and slept there, tightening with every beat of his heart. And slowly, gradually, he picked up other noises he hadn’t paid attention to before. Shouts and horses, feet, talking. Creaking wood and whispers. Heavy breaths, like his. They were weighing him down. He didn’t like it. But unable to see an escape, he kept still, and the longer he stayed quiet, the more he felt their weight, until moving was too much effort. --- “Ruddy spirits preserve us, but She’s laughing herself hoarse. I ain’t never-…All my days…” Jules collapsed back as the young man quieted and seemed likely to stay that way. His own breath was unsteady, and he knew he’d never hide the shaking in his hands. So he just lay back and waited to see if the world felt like ending, and when that didn’t happen, he shook his head and let out his shock. “Ain’t never seen the like. Ho, Brenna? Samarie?” He turned his attention from one woman to the other when the first shook her head. She’d not seen what he was talking about. Or she had, and just as he was, couldn’t place anything above it for the title of strangest thing I seen yet. Then he blinked as he finally realised who it was that had climbed onto the wagon to help, and frowned slowly. “What’re you doing about, woman? They not even give you a day’s liberty? Hoo boy, my head’s spinning.” Afternoon, not morning, she’d have had the time to sleep in by now. Sleep in and wake up and start getting restless. Wasn’t thinking right anymore. Jules struggled back to sitting and leaned on the wagon’s side, shaking his head slowly. “Think you might not be wanting t’let up there just yet. Don’t know how much smarts’re in our chicken thief’s head.”