Blood trickled down his legs, his throat and face, dripping in a solid trail behind him as he walked, dragging his sore and broken body back towards home. Thankfully, it wasn't a far walk, the tunneled labeled N on his map leading him straight home from Polaris, and the battlefield he'd left behind in silence. He stumbled, and tripped, but kept going. Home. To his daughters. To his son. He had to make it back. His heart failed to keep up, his legs numb, losing blood fast. His armor pinched and twisted in horrible places, every movement was agony. Still, he pressed on, sliding against the uneven stone walls that led back to Orion, where he would be safe. Where he could protect his family again. Where he had purpose. A life. More blood trickled into his eyes and he blinked, too numb to be sick by it. Vision was blurred, red. He had to make it. He had to get home.

His paws did carry him as far as Orion's smooth, stone floor, beneath the shimmer of Quartz crystals. There, he collapsed, in plain sight but uncaring for it. He gave a heavy sigh, then tried once more to get to his feet. Not much farther. Not much longer to go. He had to keep going. He had to reach that precious fort in the back of the city, that safe place he could rely upon to heal in. To rest, beside his girls, under the protection of his son... oh, where was Niru? How much... more...?

Ah, Niru. Ever the loyal son, he came on fast paws to Carcino's side, attentive and to the point. He knew what the black leopard wanted now, and with his help, Carce got to his feet again, steadier with someone to lean on. It hurt, though. Every step was agony, every shift of his battered muscles, the pinch of his armor against bone and flesh, torn and beaten. He made for the fort either way, it's glossy red walls a comfort now. Behind them, before they could reach the sprawling city of stone, a cough, a voice. The sound startled the battle-worn cat, and he lurched around, eyes and horns flashing a brilliant red...

...and the intruder would feel only a moment's touch before the cat would recoil with an alarming shriek. Pain exploded through his skull, and with a flicker, that red glow would cease. Left in its wake, only splitting pain. Another nose bleed. Brilliant. Carce fell to the floor in a heap of torn leather, bloodied metal and matted fur. There, he rumbled in protest. Blinding pain narrowed his vision, but he turned himself to look and see who his magic had touched- for it had indeed felt something, some faint pulse, before backfiring so harshly.

Azazel. He'd know that cat-faced bird anywhere.

"Just b-because you wear a cat's face, doesn't make you quiet like one, you rotten bone-fiend." He snarled, not too harshly- enough to let the Bone King know his sneaking around wasn't appreciated. "Why've you followed me?"