[shadow=darkblue,right]KILLUA[/shadow]

Injuries. They were all the same. They all felt the same. Killua sometimes wondered what it felt like for others to receive injuries compared to the ones that he got. The way that he had been raised had made it to where the assassin wouldn't have to really ever feel that much pain on flesh wounds alone. When it came to breaking bones or dislocating certain joints he would definitely feel something even if he really did try to hide it. He had been created so that no matter what he was going through, different forms of torture would have little to no effect on him. Which meant that if he were ever to get captured, which the simple thought of that honestly made him laugh a little bit, as it would make it so that those that are torturing him won't be capable of getting anything out of him even if they tried. They could try poisoning only to see that even it wouldn't work and even carving his skin off wouldn't have all that much effect of him either. Killua had been through the worst reaches of hell when it came to pain already, and still there were some areas that he still felt pain dealing with. Not his own fault, but it was impossible to train someone to become impervious to pain around certain sensitive areas. Such as his ears or his eyes without permanently damaging them. Despite that, Killua usually didn't think all that much when it came to wounds in general, and he refused to let anyone to try and take care of his wounds anyway. He hated having others touch him out of the factor that as soon as they did, they would be able to feel exactly how cold he was to the touch and the scars that were lying hidden underneath his fur. There were some creatures that lived in Snowbound that have seen his scars, such as Aizawa and Jacob if he had been fast enough to catch a glance once Killua had saved Aizawa from the water. The assassin didn't mess around when it kept to hiding his scars because seeing them would mean that they would ultimately have questions to ask. Killua was lucky that the black lion and the canine hadn't said a word or asked him anything in private after that. The wildcat had no reason to try and explain himself to other's and he wasn't going to explain himself to those that would shun him once they realized that he was an assassin. The only one that he was comfortable talking about who and what he was, was with London as the clouded leopard wasn't one to judge a book by its cover. And because of that, London ended up becoming his first friend. Not soon after though, the wildcat ended up having a dream about her and some parts of Snowbound itself. A dream that showed him killing everyone like his family had predicted would happen if he ever left the mansion that he was born in. Was it just a dream though right?

Killua was more than capable of killing anyone in Snowbound right now, with the powers and experience that he had in most battles it gave him an edge. Most of the animals here were pacifists anyway and wouldn't even come close to his level of skills. He didn't want that though. He never wanted anyone to fall victim to him or his family ever again. Which is why he was here in the first place trying to change who he was. The voice that he constantly heard in his head was no longer there for now, as Killua knew that it was only a matter of time before it actually did end up coming back. Sitting in the snow, Killua knew that he was going to have to look over the extent of the injury that he had given himself during his night terrors. The claws that he had more than capable of sheering his own flesh given the strength that he always has with him. He was sitting outside of his own personal cave, which was away from the rest of the Snowbound camp and completely separate. He had never been comfortable sleeping in the camp with the rest of everyone else. too many factors and too many bodies to keep track of. Killua had medical supplies that were around him, and he had yet to really change his bandages since Jacob had been the one to patch him up. He hated the idea of anyone fixing his wounds as he could always do it himself, but this time he couldn't physically manage himself and Jacob had to have been there to do it. Using his metal claws, he sliced through the bandages and looked at the long area of exposed flesh down his entire forearm. His nose wrinkled a little bit at the exposed muscle, and in certain areas he could see where his claws dug deeper than what was showing. He would know, he could feel it as his claw had managed to scratch the bone of his arm. He was lucky that he hadn't struck an artery. This was the only wound for concern, and Killua had conjured up a needle and thread for him to use to hopefully quicken the healing process. Unsheathing his claws, he used his left paw to scrape away some of the drying flesh around the top edges of the wound he had created. Creating clean edges that would adhere to one another once he stitched the ends of the wound together while leaving the middle of the wound to drain into bandages for the next coming wounds. Killua didn't seem to be in any pain during this process, grabbing the needle and thread in his mouth, being careful to hold his head steady as he stitched some of the areas. Blood dripping onto the snow below and blood dotting his claws. Once he was done with stitching some areas, not the entire wound, he packed it with gauze and wrapped it tightly in bandages. Treating injuries were a pain.

snowbound -- snowstriker -- male -- 8 moons