Skellig isn't sure if he actually speaks the words (he does) or if he is merely imagining it, part of whatever bizarre fever dream or hallucination he's participating in. He grips her hand tightly, tired muscles suddenly feeling strong, his worn bones in his fingertips losing the end-constant ache and pain that plague him. He notices, but that's not where his focus is.
She is pulling him back into the here, the now. Wherever this here and now even is.
The sun is still blazing overhead, and he is just so tired, and her blood scent is overwhelming him since she is right here.
"My dragon." He shakes his head hard, blinking spots from his vision, looks at her with eyes that are still wild, but there is a different sense of understanding there which he lacked before. Then his attention falls to her shoulder, her arm, her blood still oozing from her flesh. He nods. Get me up. He's moving without speaking, trying to stand.
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Skellig isn't sure if he actually speaks the words (he does) or if he is merely imagining it, part of whatever bizarre fever dream or hallucination he's participating in. He grips her hand tightly, tired muscles suddenly feeling strong, his worn bones in his fingertips losing the end-constant ache and pain that plague him. He notices, but that's not where his focus is.
She is pulling him back into the here, the now. Wherever this here and now even is.
The sun is still blazing overhead, and he is just so tired, and her blood scent is overwhelming him since she is right here.
"My dragon." He shakes his head hard, blinking spots from his vision, looks at her with eyes that are still wild, but there is a different sense of understanding there which he lacked before. Then his attention falls to her shoulder, her arm, her blood still oozing from her flesh. He nods. Get me up. He's moving without speaking, trying to stand.