Closed to [tekhartha]

[cyborgninjacostume]

Bleeding. He's bleeding. A lot. Like a lot a lot. Genji is trying not to panic, but he's really actually panicking more than a little. He's starting to lose altitude, and he's really hoping he's not still over the Sea of Japan or he was really going to die.

The cloud cover he drops through startlingly fast is thick and he's shivering: his mane is soaked in seconds to his back, and despite the numbness around the deep clawmarks all up and down his sides, he can feel droplets of water working between his scales.

But when he emerges, he's not over the Sea of Japan. Instead, he's over land. Mountains. Mountains covered in snow.

But it was too late to try to change course: he must have lost his way while above the clouds, the blood loss fogging his mind. There was nothing but white snow and black rocks.

Genji continued to fly, pushing his body as far as it would go even as he continued to sink.

It might just be a trick of his dying mind, but he can see lights further ahead, gold light against the white of the snow. But if it's not a trick, it's his only chance of living. If it is, then he's dead anyways. Genji heads for the light, and as he gets closer, it comes into shape as a cluster of buildings. THe light seems confined to one side of the cluster, but he has no doubt that even if he can find his way into one of the darker buildings, he would not be undiscovered for long.

Hopefully long enough he could sleep and let his wounds heal enough he could move on, find out where he was, maybe hunt a little.

Genji lands less than gracefully in the darkest corner of the cluster of buildings. The snow here is untouched, at least, and there's what looks like a barn only a few steps away.

Heaving a ragged breath, Genji pushes at the door with his nose. It opens with a ragged squeal. There's old hay on the floor, a few vehicles, but the main area of the barn is open and large enough for him to curl up in. He limps inside and turns so he can push the door at least mostly closed - it goes with an even louder squeal, but Genji is too exhausted to care. He takes a few moments to lick the wounds he can get to, then lays his head down to sleep.

Comments

[tekhartha]

Zenyatta thought he was looking at a shooting star. At the time it had seemed a reasonable conclusion to draw: a strange, tailed shape flitting across the night sky in a single fluid streak, high above the mountains' peaks. Lightless, yes, but he'd scarcely had a moment to consider the details before it vanished between the clouds again, out of sight.

It's only when he hears the echoing thump of nearby impact that he realises his mistake.

He freezes, statue-still, on the veranda. At this hour he knows he's the only one still active- which, in turn, makes him the only one capable of investigating what had the potential to be an ugly disturbance. Even the tranquil seclusion offered to them by these mountains could be made vulnerable to a determined foe, and Zenyatta is not so foolish as to suppose their order is lacking in those. Whatever it was, its discovery cannot wait until morning.

So carefully, quietly, he makes his way towards the source of the sound, little more than a gleam of metal and glowing dots in the temple's shadows, inked deeper and blacker than the night itself. It isn't long before he finds the crash site, and the long, banked path of disturbed snow leading away from it. Here and there the white is streaked with something darker that Zenyatta cannot immediately identify, but they hardly matter now that he has a trail to follow. The barns?

Once used for livestock in some bygone era, they've been empty since before Zenyatta arrived at the monastery. As far as he knows, they're only used for storage- but, sure enough, one of the doors is just cracked open. Zenyatta's cerebral functions whir almost into overdrive with a thousand and one safety protocols reminding him of the correct procedures. He ignores them and opens the door.

The hinges shriek in protest, but he scarcely hears them. Had he lungs to stall he would catch his breath in an instant; lying within, coiled up like some great, silent serpent, is an animal unlike any he has ever seen before. At first he can scarcely understand what he's looking at. Scales, frills... and horns, velvet-ragged like the trunk of a tree or a young buck's antlers.

A dragon.

"By the Iris...!" His voice is scarcely above a whisper, not consciously- he's already forgotten he's supposed to be stealthy- but in sheer awe. Even then his voice sounds too loud, as though his disbelief might destroy the vision before him.

[cyborgninjacostume]

Genji had not totally fallen asleep when the door screeched open but he didn't move even though he was as awake as it was possible to be considering his wounds and exhaustion.

Instead, he peered at the figure in the doorway. If the dull gleam reflecting off of metal and the lights hadn't given away that it was an omnic, then the synthesized voice definitely did.

It wasn't making a move to attack him, but it was very likely it was not alone.

What to do, though? Wait for death, he supposed. He couldn't fight, he was too weak, and he was too injured to fly. Genji lets out a quiet breath and opens his eyes fully. It had been foolish to even try to escape to safety, but he's ready to face his own death head-on.

[tekhartha]

It moves- sluggishly, without even a trace of aggression- and, when it sighs, whatever fear still lingering in Zenyatta's heart melts away into the darkness of the night. Those stains on the snow.

"Such a magnificent creature..." he breathes, even without breath to draw. Slowly, hands held palms-up in what he hopes is a non-threatening display, he steps into the barn and closes the door behind him.

His orbs are little stars in the dark, illuminating the lean cut of his figure as he approaches and bouncing off of bloodied scales. Up close he can see the damage on those slithering coils, silently wondering what could possibly have caused it. But as his gaze follows its curves it's the eyes he settles on in the end, huge and dark. He cannot for a single moment believe there isn't an intelligent mind working behind them.

Slowly, Zenyatta lowers his hands. "I will not hurt you, my friend. But I need to see your wounds."

[cyborgninjacostume]

The omnic maybe couldn't tell in the dark, but Genji's wounds were more extensive than they appeared at first glance. Along the black of his neck and all down his spine were rows deep puncture wounds, some tearing, all vicious. And in parallel rows on his sides and shoulders were claws marks.

Genji blinks at the omnic, and lifts his head - there's a deep furrow in his hide between his eyes, and the crusted blood is gathered on his eyelids, clumped into his thick lashes.

Then he exhales - not quite a sigh - and lays his head down. Omnics are supposed to be logical, unfeeling, but then this one had called him 'magnificent'.

He stretches out, and the lessened pressure on some of the gouges causes them to start bleeding again.

[tekhartha]

Perhaps it's simply too tired or injured, but as Zenyatta moves closer still the dragon doesn't show any signs of aggression; in fact, it's difficult to interpret the tilt of his head as anything but submissive. It's all the encouragement he needs.

"Be still." There's a softness to his voice that takes the edge from his command. He's already running his hands lightly across the creature's body to test the depth of each wound, the spread. Worse than he feared. After a moment's thought he heads straight for the barn's store cupboards and pulls out metre after metre of livestock blanket. Then he begins to rip them.

Cleaning the wounds properly can wait until he has the supplies. With the longer strips of blanket in hand he turns his hand to bandaging the worst of the dragon's injuries. Silent, focused, he begins to wrap.

[cyborgninjacostume]

Genji flinches at the touch - even the gentlest touch near any of his wounds hurts, and it's a relief when the omnic pulls away. But it's back after a minute, carrying a huge bundle of fabric. Genji watches it, unsure of what it's going to do.

But it starts ripping up the fabric into long strips.

He flinches again at the first touch of the fabric - gritting his teeth against the pain.

All he wants to do is sleep - his saliva will help the open wounds to close, but he's exhausted - too exhausted to find his voice, too exhausted to try to get away.

He does growl a few times when the omnic touches an especially painful spot, but by the time the omnic is done bandaging his wounds, he's dozing, unable to sleep due to the pain, but also unable to really keep his eyes open.

[tekhartha]

The dragon growls and bares its teeth, but that's where it stops- convenient, perhaps, but worrying enough in itself that Zenyatta half-considers using a rougher touch just to keep it conscious. Who knows where that oblivion of sleep might lead? Yet it seems so cruel to keep it from rest that he finds he doesn't have the heart. Instead, he runs a hand comfortingly along one of its horns. "I am with you," he says, softly. "Zenyatta is with you."

Filled afresh with purpose, he finishes with the deepest wounds and heads straight for the door to grab handfuls of fresh snow; these he uses to soothe the aches and clean the blood. Beneath the red its scales are green as grass, and so intricately woven together that he has to resisting running a finger along their edges.

There are injuries enough on the dragon's body to keep him cleaning, wrapping and checking all night long and then some; as soon as one gash seems to have dried out another opens like a red mouth, drooling down a flank or claw. By the time the first pink rays of dawn have begun to chase away the stars he's on his last reserves of power- but before he drops he has just enough in him to push a large trough into the barn, filled with fresh, melting snow. Then, closing the doors behind him, he sighs deeply and drops back against the wall to recharge for a few hours.

[cyborgninjacostume]

The touch on his horns is soothing - one of the few places on his body that doesn't hurt. The omnic - Zenyatta? - has a gentle touch, solid, cool, but it's easy to tell that it means to comfort him. What kind of omnic comforts another creature? Maybe this kind. The kind that lives far from humans, where humans would struggle to live.

But as soothing as the touch is, the cold snow is better: it helps dull the pain, if only for a moment in a single spot. He turns his head to watch - just a little, hurts to move too much - but the omnic seems to enjoy the sight of his scales cleaned of blood. They are bright - not as bright as his brothers, but-- he stops that train of thought, lays his head back down.

He dozes through the rest of the bandaging, flinching only occasionally - the deepest wounds are taken care of, so the lighter scrapes and shallower bites don't require as much treatment. But as the omnic pushes the trough into the barn, Genji finally falls asleep fully, into deep and dreamless sleep.

When he wakes, later, sore and heavy and thirsty, the snow is melted. He drags himself forward enough to drop his muzzle into the water - it's bitterly cold, but he doesn't care. He drains the trough in a few great gulps and curls up to sleep again, sighing in relief. Sun streaks in through the crack in the door and the stripe of it falls across his hide. He is not a reptile, like this, but it is nice to be warm.

[tekhartha]

Time passes. When Zenyatta comes back online it's to the sound of birds beyond the barn walls and a sunbeam streaming through the door- and, yes, the dragon. He stares dazedly at the creature for a moment or two, letting reality truly sink in. Not a dream, then, or some intense hallucination. Slowly, his chilled joints protesting against the movement, he eases himself up onto his feet again.

By what little daylight has reached them he notices, to his immense relief, that the dragon is still breathing in the deep, slow way of sleep. Each time its chest rises and falls he catches a gleam of colour in the light, like a fish just beneath the surface of the water. But there's little time for him to admire either the dragon or his handiwork, because there's yet more to be done. With a little stretch to warm up his body Zenyatta sets about refilling the trough and then checking his makeshift bandages. The worst of his injuries stick stubbornly to the fabric and only peel free with a generous application of snow, but for the most part they seem to have done the trick. Fortunate. He doubts they'd have any large enough to cover these. The only organic medical supplies kept in the monastery at all are purely for their human guests.

Probably the other monks are wondering where he is. Have you seen Brother Zenyatta? He must have wandered off again. He knows his reputation. Gently, slowly, he runs a cool metal finger along one of the ugliest gashes. It seems impossible to imagine what could have done this kind of damage other than another dragon- but then, if he can accept the existence of one, why not another?

Little by little, he works his way up the curling expanse of its body, cleaning and redressing, until finally he reaches the head. Such a strange, beautiful face. Almost without thinking, he flattens his palm against its cheek.

[cyborgninjacostume]

Genji wakes sometime though the rebandaging of his wounds, but doesn't open his eyes until he feels that cool metal hand on his cheek. He's sore and his body feels too heavy to move, but he can open his eyes - a little, at least, there's still blood crusting his eyelashes together and making it hard to really look around.

He turns his head a little to peer up at the omnic with his closer eye. After rest and getting a drink of water, he's already feeling better. Most of his wounds were probably closed, and those that weren't were on their way there. He should get up and hunt, but his body feels too heavy for it still.

But he's aware enough to be able to study the omnic more closely than he could before. It's lit by the same sunlight that's falling across his body. It doesn't look like any omnic he's ever seen. He's seen a lot, crushed many between his jaws or cut apart with his sword, but none like this. From the faceplate to the grid of teal lights in its forehead, it's unique.

Genji is careful not to move his head, but instead shifts his body so he's laying more on his side, uncoiling his body with a sigh of relief.

[tekhartha]

The dragon's eyes open. Last night had been too dark to make out much more than a dark gleam, but by the morning light he can see the flecked brown around its pupils, as deep and soft as lacquered wood. Intelligent, without question. They're arresting enough that Zenyatta doesn't even register the blood for a good few seconds- though, when he does, he's quick to play catch-up.

"Here. This will help." Heading to the trough, he grabs another handful or so of slush and begins, painstakingly, to clean the area around the dragon's eyes. It's an incredibly delicate area to touch on any living creature, even a mythical one covered in a thick hide of scales. A single centimetre too far out, just a fraction more pressure than is necessary... is it trust or exhaustion, he wonders, that keeps it from lashing out? A little of both, probably, though it's the former he works hard to earn through his care.

It's working, though. The snow comes away brownish red between his fingers, and little by little those strange long eyelashes separate and that proud brow reveal themselves again. "Please," he says quietly. "Tell me if I hurt you."

[cyborgninjacostume]

Genji closes his eyes as the omnic wipes at his eyes. Its fingers pick at the dried blood with the utmost care, and when he blinks his eyes open again, after the fingers retreat, it's to the ability to open his eyes fully - or at least, one of them. He shifts and rolls his head, giving the omnic access to his other eye - this one is crusted almost completely shut, but it's better to let it pick apart the crusts than Genji to try to scrape it off himself and re-open the wound on his face or rip out his own eyelashes.

As soon as his face is clean, he's going to get up. Or try to. It's going to be hard, but he needs to move, needs to stretch his legs and hunt.

If he wasn't sure that transforming back into a man would kill him from blood loss and all his wounds, he would do it. If only to be able to speak. Instead, he grumbles in a noise like agreement, tail swishing against the back wall of the barn.

[tekhartha]

Was that assent in that rumbling sound, he wonders, or his own mind projecting into it? The former, he hopes. Regardless, the dragon doesn't make any attempt to resist his help, and so Zenyatta carries on piece by piece, freeing its second eye and the wounds around it.

But he can also already feel the dragon growing restless beneath his hands, muscles winding tight as springs and tail becoming whiplike in its impatience. The worst of it is that, much as he dislikes the idea, Zenyatta knows he'll have to move sooner rather than later. Water and shelter is one thing, but he can't provide food- or at least, if he were to try, he'd end up stealing from local goatherds and shepherds just to keep up with the appetite that must come with a beast of this size.

He gives in, reluctantly. "Take care, lord dragon," he says, and it seems a more proper way to address such a creature than my friend, "and do not wander far. I will leave the barn doors open for your return, but you must be wary, and you must be discreet."

How would the locals react, he wonders, to a dragon streaking through the sky? With fascination and awe, yes, but what after that? At any rate, Zenyatta's voice makes it clear that he expects him to return.

My lord. He. Vaguely, he notes that he has settled on a sex for the dragon. Very well. He, then.

[cyborgninjacostume]

Is it unbearably vain of him to arch his neck in pleasure at being called 'lord dragon'? Probably. But Genji does it anyways, grumbling happily. Still, he waits for Zenyatta to back up before he tries to stand.

His initial attempt fails - his back legs simply can't support his weight so quickly - so instead he sits up, locking his front legs to stay up. Sure enough, his shoulders and back are sore beyond belief, but he stretches out his neck, tipping his head up -- only to slam his nose into the ceiling. Genji snorted and dropped his head, shaking it a little then wriggling his nose and rubbing at against his forearm.

It's sore, but the pain at least has woken him up a little.

He tries again to stand and this time succeeds, back legs shaking. But he stays up, even as his muscles scream in protest - they're injured, and he flew so long and so far yesterday that even if he hadn't been injured he would still be sore.

Back at home, he had his hall with heated floors and much higher ceilings, he had no need to shift back to human in a hurry. Genji takes a step, making sure his legs will support him. They do, so he noses at the door and shoves it open, then steps out into the outside. He blinks against the bright outside light, but once his eyes adjust, he looks around at the place where he landed for the first time.

The sky was incredibly blue, and everything besides was white and black with snow and rocks. This has to be the Himalayas, right? Still, those mountains look utterly inviting. Genji shifts, tests his legs, then tries to fly. He gets a little altitude, but not enough, and he lands back down in a little swirl of snow.

He sighs - his exhaustion is real, but so is his growling stomach. The questions is just if he should rest some more and get his strength up for hunting, or make himself hunt and eat so he could rest and heal.

While he considers his options, he sits, curling his tail around his feet.

[tekhartha]

There's something profoundly endearing about the way the dragon preens and poses at the inferred compliment. But that has nothing on his subsequent display of clumsiness, which raises a startled, bubbling laugh from Zenyatta- one he is quick to stifle behind one elegant hand nonetheless, as a matter of sympathy and common sense both. It probably doesn't behove one to laugh at a dragon. Besides, what he needs right now is encouragement.

As the dragon opens the doors he follows, immediately distracted by the play of sunlight on those scales again. Zenyatta falls into step beside him, sizing up the damage by daylight- unpleasant, still, but far better than they were. Understandably, however, he's having trouble getting started even so. As the two of them consider his options he places one hand on an uninjured expanse of flank, patting and stroking as though he were a lapcat rather than a gigantic lizard.

There are a few things he could do, Zenyatta knows. He could head into the nearest village himself and buy meat, a few chickens- but there'd be questions he couldn't answer, and it would take more time than he can safely commit to right now. After a minute or so spent in silent debate, he makes a decision.

"A farmer keeps livestock nearby," he begins slowly. "Sheep, primarily. Often they stray onto temple grounds. If you were to hunt them, I suppose it would be kindest for me to repay him the debt personally."

Hopefully, he's catching his drift. He's shown at least some sign of understanding human languages, after all.

[cyborgninjacostume]

Genji twitches when he feels the hand on his flank and turns his head, but just watches Zenyatta for a moment before he turns to look around again. He stretches out his neck and this time doesn't slam his nose into solid wood.

His ears flicker back, rotating to listen to Zenyatta speak. Sheep. His lip curls at the thought of having to deal with all the wool, but he's not entirely opposed. They were probably close, if he was already on 'temple grounds'. It would be a short walk. But it would be a lot of work to eat them - just the thought of having to lick off all that wool (or swallow it) makes him want to go back inside and sleep.

But his stomach growls so he sighs and stands again.

Almost immediately, he sits back down. He has no idea what kind of boundary marks out the temple's grounds. No idea how to find white sheep on snow.

Slowly, Genji lays down again, ducking his head and thinking. There had to be wild animals around, right? He thinks back to school, learning about biology and animals. There were those cow things, right? Yaks? Genji grumbles thoughtfully. Maybe he could find and catch one of those.

[tekhartha]

A curled lip, a huff, and it's clear that his lord dragon won't be the easiest of customers to please. Zenyatta folds his arms in turn, just short of sitting with his back to the beast in his own picture of thought. Their options are somewhat limited. He doesn't want the dragon to over-strain himself.

Eventually, he finds himself forced to settle on the solution he's been trying to avoid.

"Wait here. I will bring you what you seek." It shouldn't take him more than an hour to procure something from the farmland around them; he'll just have to think of recompense later if his conscience starts to prickle. It's nature, he reminds himself sternly. The natural order of things.

Speaking of stern. He glances back at the dragon, his voice adopting an almost paternal edge of warning. "Do not move from this place. If you hear any sign of activity whatsoever, return to the barn and be silent." Respectful he may be, but it's obvious from his tone that this is not up for debate. In fact, he's already turning away before he can hear any argument (assuming the dragon is capable of truly arguing like this).

Needless to say, it isn't an easy trip. Along the way he's accosted by more than a few of his brothers and sisters, all of whom want to know where he has been and what the dark red on his trousers is, and of course he has to provide excuses, no matter how unlikely they may sound. In the back of his mind Zenyatta knows that this will reach Mondatta in no time at all. But he cannot think of that now.

When he returns- warily, with the air of a fox creeping into the henhouse- he has a large ox by his side. Soothed by his presence, it snuffles contentedly into his hand all the way towards the barn.

[cyborgninjacostume]

It's probably too bad for Zenyatta that Genji isn't generally inclined to listen to other people trying to tell him what to do. Still, he sits and waits about twenty minutes, gathering his strength, and manages to lift himself over the wall separating the buildings from the world beyond.

Genji sniffs the air, stretching out his body as he does so, and catches the distinct smell of sheep.

They're not far away, and they're too stupid and unsure to be afraid of him - catching two of them is easy, but instead of setting to work eating them - the wool is sticking to his tongue unpleasantly - he carries them back to the barn. This time, he hauls himself over physically instead of flying - the walking and the hunting has sapped the strength he needs to fly. He drops the sheep just inside the door to the barn and flops down, lapping at the water in the trough.

Carefully, he tries to shave the most of the wool off of his prey, dragging the razor-sharp inner edge of his claw along the body. He mostly succeeds in causing a lot of bleeding, but not a lot of wool-removal.

He falls still the second he hears footsteps, though, and the heavy breathing of an animal. He stands and sticks his head out the open door - no other omnic would be approaching with an animal, besides Zenyatta. Sure enough, it's the omnic, with a big cow or something at his side, being led easily. Genji snorts and sits back, watching the cow or the second it smells the sheeps' blood. Its head comes up, eyes going wide in panic as it tries to back away.

[tekhartha]

Ah. Zenyatta stops in his tracks, one hand still on the ox's back- and gives a long, slow sigh. If he had temples he'd be compressing them with his fingertips. Perhaps it's his fault for being foolish enough to think a dragon, injured or not, would adhere to the request of a humble monk.

At least he's found food for himself, he supposes. Two sheep. Judging by the uneven strips of raw flesh and wool discarded nearby he's still found the stretch to be a fussy eater, which probably serves him right for being so difficult in the first place, even if the result is less than pleasant.

"You may well laugh, lord dragon," he says crisply. But further admonishment can come later. First, the ox. Quickly he sets about soothing the animal, first with his hands and then with a soft hum of harmonious energy. Little by little, he feels its pulse slow, its muscles relax.

Natural though this may be, there is something in such deception that visibly upsets him, orbs whirring uneasily about his shoulders and Jieba flushing a deeper blue than ever. "Strike quickly. It will not remain calm for long."

[cyborgninjacostume]

There's something about the cow standing so still and calm so soon after being so scared. And it's not stupid like a sheep. The sheep had let him nearly walk up to them without even running. The cow is different.

Genji looked away from it and sighed. Slowly, he laid down, then pulled one of the mangled sheep towards him. He scraped more skin and wool off of the corpse and started to eat it, guts and all. When he had been younger, he'd been unable to eat raw meat, even as a dragon, but now he cared much less. He'd never been intending for Zenyatta to go and get him something to eat, just contemplating the best way to actually eat a sheep.

Eating a cow would delay his ability to turn back into a human as soon as possible, anyways. The sheep were a smaller meal, would digest faster, and he wouldn't be stuck as a dragon for another couple of days longer than need be.

[tekhartha]

That catches him by surprise. Is it pragmatism or respect the cause of his change of heart?

After a moment or two of consideration Zenyatta shrugs the question off, for the time being, and works on steering the ox away- no mean feat, as it turns out. With the distraction of its impending demise put aside for now the ox has turned its attentions on its new omnic friend; every time he tries to lead it away from the barns it starts snuffling into his side, its long, steaming tongue lapping affectionately at him. In the end it's partly brute strength and partly soft coaxing that sends it on its way, a murmur in the rough Nepali of the local herders and a pair of firm metal hands on its flank. Sooner or later, someone will find it and return it to the right farm.

By the time he turns back the first sheep has been thoroughly disemboweled. "Is there anything else I can find for you, lord dragon?" Zenyatta asks eventually, and his voice is gentle again, because. in the end, he just can't bring himself to stay cross with him for long. It wasn't his fault, after all.

[cyborgninjacostume]

Genji looks up when Zenyatta speaks to him, considering. He looks to the other sheep, still unmutilated with its wool coat intact, then stands. He drags it closer to Zenyatta, then dips his head. He licks away a swath of wool then spits it out in wet clumps, and looks up to Zenyatta again, hoping this time he could be understood. No voice was not fun.

He sits, scraping at the wool now irretreviably stuck between his teeth with a claw, hoping the omnic will understand what, exactly, Genji wants from him. Which is the sheep with its wool cut off so he can actually eat it.

With the worst of the wool off of his teeth and tongue, he gets back to work on the sheep he'd already been eating, nibbling the muscle off the bones of its legs before crunching into the bones. His muzzle and claws are stained red with blood, gore dripping from his jaws, but all in all he's trying to eat neatly. After all, this is his living space for the time being, until he's healed enough to leave.

[tekhartha]

It takes Zenyatta only a moment to understand what the dragon is getting at. Of course. He may not know what it's like to swallow anything at all, but he has a ripe enough imagination to take a guess at what all that wool must feel like in one's throat.

"I understand. Give me but a little time." Calmly, he hefts the dead sheep up into his arms and takes a seat on an old engine nearby. The body is already cold, and a little stiff. Like this it's far easier for him to clasp his hands, those long, sensitive fingers, around fistfuls of wool and yank them out with pure omnic strength. Again, and again. Whatever tools there might be around here have probably long since rusted to oblivion, anyway.

As he works, he hums to himself. It starts low, barely above the nature hum of his systems, but little by little it rises to something sweet and sonorous; there's no real melody to it, but every now and then one of his orbs chimes as if in a counterpoint. All the while, the pile of wool at his feet grows ever larger.

[cyborgninjacostume]

Genji spends some time enjoying his sheep while watching Zenyatta work. He finishes up the last of the sheep and sets to work cleaning his claws just as Zenyatta starts to hum.

His head immediately comes up, ears swiveling around to listen, his entire attention focused on Zenyatta. It doesn't sound like a human humming, or even the rough hum Genji could manage in this form. It's like the hum of machinery, or an engine, but different. It's long and continuous notes - no need for pausing for breath when you don't breathe, after all.

Slowly, Genji moves, lying more on his side and stretching out his back legs to get comfortable. He watches Zenyatta, and listens, resting his chin on his forearm.

By the time Zenyatta is done stripping the sheep of wool, Genji's dozing peacefully, his body slumped, boneless and relaxed.

[tekhartha]

His task is absorbing enough that he doesn't even notice the effect he's having until he looks up again. Apparently music really does soothe the savage beast. It's worked like a lullaby on an irritable child, and, not for the first time, Zenyatta can't help but be charmed. How could he fail to be so? There's still an air of unreality about the creature that amazes him whenever he thinks about it for long enough. There's a dragon sleeping in the temple barns. Unbelievable.

Placing the sheep to one side, he approaches the dragon's sleeping form, his deep, soft breaths steaming against chrome. As well as he knows he shouldn't touch he also cannot resist the urge to reach out and place a hand, light as a butterfly on a leaf, on one bruised cheek. Before long he's stroking gently under his chin and up to his ears, that thin, tender flesh, so painfully vulnerable. What could possibly have done this to him?

But Zenyatta knows he must tear himself away sooner rather than later, and tear himself away he does, closing the barn door carefully behind him and scrubbing out the blood in the snow with his foot as he goes. Back at the temple he's confronted by four or five confused omnics, all with twice as many questions as before. The walk, at least, has given him a chance to come up with a reasonable excuse: I was walking and found a wounded buck. I had to tend to him. It isn't a lie. Yet when he repeats it to Mondatta he feels the words sliding off of him like water from a stone; even when he nods, he knows he's done little to convince him.

On such thin ice, it isn't until early the next morning that Zenyatta finds the chance to escape again. He rises while the moon is still high and full and Venus a glinting eye in the dawn. This time he's come prepared: thicker blankets, bandages, a small electric heater, lights.

He knocks twice, then enters. "Do not be alarmed, lord dragon. I have returned." His arms are so full that he can barely see around the pile, and as he enters the barn he must do so back-first, just to keep anything from slipping.