( were he a lesser creature, his vision might've gone black. as it stands, it's certainly gray at the edges, an unbidden and hollow cry ripped from his throat as she yanks the wood from his shoulder. were he or she in better form, perhaps he'd enjoy the necessity of leaning on her, his body slightly slack —
perhaps he does relish the familiar solidity of her under his weight, still.
someone he knows. someone he cares for. someone he trusts.
he stumbles forward a few steps at her urging, his head bowed from exhaustion and against the wind and slap of rain. her suggestion provokes some dark contempt; he manages to retort, ) I don't need to get inside.
( he starts to slip, to stop. ) I need... ( he licks his dry lips; he thinks of the gush of a pulse, the burst of — ) blood. ( he begins to collapse entirely.
out of true weakness or stubbornness, we just don't know)
no subject
perhaps he does relish the familiar solidity of her under his weight, still.
someone he knows. someone he cares for. someone he trusts.
he stumbles forward a few steps at her urging, his head bowed from exhaustion and against the wind and slap of rain. her suggestion provokes some dark contempt; he manages to retort, ) I don't need to get inside.
( he starts to slip, to stop. ) I need... ( he licks his dry lips; he thinks of the gush of a pulse, the burst of — ) blood. ( he begins to collapse entirely.
out of true weakness or stubbornness, we just don't know)