Major Interaction: [@Hokum]
Minor Interaction:  [@Polaris North]

The sight of Devlin writhing through the air as the golem launched her sideways jarred Ren's breathing into a gasp of air.  Even if the undead barricaded his approach towards Devlin, a sudden surge of fear and rage coursed within him.  He smashed his shoulder against the wall of skeletons, breaking their defense with a loud crash when Ren charged through them in a frantic attempt to get to Devlin's side.  He only met her for a night and a half, but Ren could not help but feel an overwhelming sense of protection over her-- as if she was precious to him.  Ren valued life, that was for certain, but deep within the darkest recesses of his mind, Ren knew that he valued her life better than others.  The reason for that, Ren still grasped at straws to find the answer, but one thing was for sure:  he needed to save her, and not the rise of the damned would stop him.

He silently thanked the archer for continuing to watch their back, allowing him to thin out the onslaught of skeletons going after them.  When Ren finally reached Devlin's side, the musician paused in disbelief as he witnessed brutal forks of lightning lashing out at the conclave of undead gathering around her.  As the last skeleton fell to the ground in an ashen heap, Ren found the courage to dash to the fallen rogue, deftly catching her in his arms whilst she grasped at him.  How he wished he could whisper words of comfort to her; how he wanted to speak, to tell her that everything was going to be okay now that he was at her side.  But, the only thing Ren could muster were strangled groans and voiceless breaths as he clutched her closer to him.

But, Ren digressed, words paled in comparison to actions-- especially, since, out of all the possible myriad of appropriate actions, her lips pressed against his without much strength, but still hard enough to jolt the living hells out of the man.  Ren's eye twitched for the most miniscule of moments before fixing himself.  This was good enough for his ability to take effect, and without much thought into it, Ren angled lips against hers as his body began to transfer thousands upon thousands of cells through the fingers caressing her face and through the bruised lips brushing with hers.
  Meanwhile, his other hand crept over to the arrow piercing her shoulder, and without warning, he yanked it out of her before crushing his lips harder with hers to drown out any shouts.

[i]'Close enough,'[/i]

Confident that the emergency amount of cells he had transferred unto her body would at least anchor her from the most grievous of her wounds, Ren looked back up as he realized that they were still in the heat of battle.  With the undead cleaving at the now withering golem, the musician took the chance to hold her hand in his.  He did not know how 'in control' she was of her senses, but at this moment, Ren faced a dilemma:  She was definitely injured in more ways than one.  She could not even stand properly.  If he wanted to restore her at least so that she can walk, he would be the one suffering as healing the rather large injuries she had, especially the one bleeding out beneath her attire, would leave Ren on the brink of incapacitation.  Something he did not want, by the way.  On the other hand, if he became stingy with his cells, her recovery would not be enough to get her out of there.  She would be doomed to the undead cleaving her in pieces until nothing remained.

There was only one option, and Ren felt bile rising to his throat as he glanced at the new wave of skeletons prowling towards them from a distance.  Taking the saber in his hand, Ren edged the blade over the skin of his arm.  The lad breathed deeply, feeling a surge of memories welling up in his mind-- of some horrid...  people...  consuming...

NO!

She was not like [i]them[/i].  She was Devlin, the woman who saved him when no one else would.  She was Devlin, the woman who made Ren believe that kindness did not always come from sweet smiles and gentle gazes; it could also come from calloused and rough hands who did what needed to be done to save a life she barely knew.

Ren waved to the archer, signaling for him to start running away from the heat of battle.  Then, he gritted his teeth before pressing the blade deep with one fell slice, causing the flap of Ren's skin to dangle as crimson liquid spurted from the bloodied visage of what appeared to be connective tissues and some layers of fat.  Ren peeled off the loose skin before rolling it into a small object.  

[i]'Trust me.'[/i]  He signed with a weary yet worried look on his face.

He looked at Devlin, signing for her to close her eyes before edging his peeled skin towards her lips.  With the cut of the skin so deep that it exposed some blood vessels and fats, Ren was confident that this was more than enough to give her a large burst of regeneration.

Rumors about Ren's skin circulated around the mines and even in some parts of the Akropolian desert about how it was a miracle cure-all.  The lad preferred for it to be considered as such (the more non-existent, the better), because he had an inkling what would happen if people knew of the truth.  The concentrated amount of strong, mutated cells latching on his skin meant that these cells would immediately cater to the consumer's bodily needs.  It was a potent yet portable version of Ren with the added benefit that it allowed the boy to regenerate the lost piece of skin on his own without necessarily draining all the cells in his body at once.  The process was quicker than how Ren would heal his allies and definitely safer, but there was a disgusting side effect:  aside from the vile idea of cannibalism, there was also the issue of addiction as all experienced when consuming too much of any substance.  Hence, the rumor has it that consuming Ren's skin was similar to a miracle draught of healing.  It was effective yet addictive when not controlled.

It was her choice-- always her choice, and while he [i]believed[/i] that she would not get...  attached too much, Ren knew that people had standards.  But, this was the path he was offering, and how much he prayed that she would understand how hard it was for him to offer this as much as it would be hard for her to eat it.

He did not know whether it would be all worth it in the end, but just one look at her battered face and wounded torso, and Ren knew that, perhaps, for her, it would always be worth it.  Maybe, she was worth it.