Pain … but duller than before. Hadn’t a spirit come to guide him into the dreamtime? He found her soft, warm form nestled into his side, her cheek resting on his bicep as her chest rose and fell in the gentle rhythm of a peaceful, mortal sleep. His lungs hurt like Hades, but he took a deep breath and realized he was still alive. Who was this woman? Was she a spirit or his mate? He touched the long, dark tresses which had fallen across her face and fished a strand out of her lush, full lips, fascinated by its color and its length. He recalled she had kissed him as he had stood at the entrance to the void.
He lifted his arm and found it had been splinted with debris wrapped tightly with fallen bits of wire. Moving his legs to reassure himself he still possessed them, he turned his head to examine his broken wing. It looked bad, but at least the bone no longer stuck out through his skin. Would he ever be able to fly again? That depended upon this planet's gravity. He tried to grab the tidbit of information as it flitted through his mind, something urgent about the planet, but the image departed as fleetingly as it had appeared.
Who was he? What was his name? He couldn't remember. All he knew was that this woman had taken heroic measures to save his life and now she lay curled up beside him in a manner that felt both alien, and yet heart-yearningly familiar. His skin tingled wherever her body came into contact with his. She had covered him with a blanket, but was herself uncovered and shivering. Curling his good wing so as not to wake her, he pulled her closer, wrapping the limb around her like a blanket before allowing himself to drift back to sleep.