( that is an entirely reasonable answer. much too neat for his liking. it would take an extraordinary amount of bad luck. there's something about this girl, something that makes him want to press his fingers against her skin and peel and peel until he can find that beating heart of truth she's hiding. )
And you came running. ( a bite of amusement. what exactly did she think would come of that?
he withdraws from the thickest shadows, finally. he looks washed out and drawn, with bruises gathering beneath his eyes like rainclouds. he settles across from her, spine curled so that they can be close to eye level.
despite the lightness of his tone he's clearly been in better shape. )
And I came running. [ she sits up more. properly. her wounds are bad, but not worse than she's had in the past, and she's feeling clear-headed again now that she's had time to rest. somehow, he's the one who looks worse for wear now. she surveys him, gaze darting quickly. ] Unlucky for you.
( they're currently sitting at 0:2 in his favour. no reason for him to start worrying.
it's that confidence that has him reaching for her now, intent on checking over her injuries. the light in the cave is spartan at best and for all he's vaguely aware of her — a soft beat of life at the back of his skull — he can't get a proper gauge on her at this distance. )
[ go fuck yourself, she wants to say. it hits the tip of her tongue before she shuts her mouth. she can feel something prickling in her thoughts. a low hum. a growl.
the lynx. it followed the smell of kuruko blood. and she watches the kossian's body creak and wince as he shifts towards her.
this is her chance.
so she listens. leans in close. then punches hard in his shoulder, right near the joint, in the same spot where her own wounds were still sealing. reaching out after that psychically is instinct. like net fishing, gathering all she can to understand where she needs to run from, where the others are — it can't just be him — and how many and —
( the girl strikes at him, and it's more than just a physical blow. fingers digging into his mind. brutal, vicious.
she takes everything. his mind blown wide by the distraction — not that there's much to take. his lack of familiarity with this region shows. his disdain.
by the time she releases him, he's retching, gasping violently on the floor as his lungs refuse to push past the pain. )
there's a moment where she stands there over him, chest heaving, where she knows she could. but she doesn't. instead, she turns and runs. bolts for the mouth of the cave at a stagger, gets far enough out under the shelter of a mesquite for the lynx to bound towards her, its muzzle still covered in her blood.
she pulls herself up onto its back, grimacing as pain lances through her shoulder. there's no time to surrender to it. her familiarity with the region allows her to conclude which direction his help should be coming from, even if he doesn't know himself.
so she? she runs the opposite direction. she's not going anywhere. it doesn't matter. the wilds are hers. ]
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And you came running. ( a bite of amusement. what exactly did she think would come of that?
he withdraws from the thickest shadows, finally. he looks washed out and drawn, with bruises gathering beneath his eyes like rainclouds. he settles across from her, spine curled so that they can be close to eye level.
despite the lightness of his tone he's clearly been in better shape. )
no subject
no subject
( they're currently sitting at 0:2 in his favour. no reason for him to start worrying.
it's that confidence that has him reaching for her now, intent on checking over her injuries. the light in the cave is spartan at best and for all he's vaguely aware of her — a soft beat of life at the back of his skull — he can't get a proper gauge on her at this distance. )
Come here.
no subject
the lynx. it followed the smell of kuruko blood. and she watches the kossian's body creak and wince as he shifts towards her.
this is her chance.
so she listens. leans in close. then punches hard in his shoulder, right near the joint, in the same spot where her own wounds were still sealing. reaching out after that psychically is instinct. like net fishing, gathering all she can to understand where she needs to run from, where the others are — it can't just be him — and how many and —
and.
she scrambles to her feet. ]
no subject
she takes everything. his mind blown wide by the distraction — not that there's much to take. his lack of familiarity with this region shows. his disdain.
by the time she releases him, he's retching, gasping violently on the floor as his lungs refuse to push past the pain. )
no subject
there's a moment where she stands there over him, chest heaving, where she knows she could. but she doesn't. instead, she turns and runs. bolts for the mouth of the cave at a stagger, gets far enough out under the shelter of a mesquite for the lynx to bound towards her, its muzzle still covered in her blood.
she pulls herself up onto its back, grimacing as pain lances through her shoulder. there's no time to surrender to it. her familiarity with the region allows her to conclude which direction his help should be coming from, even if he doesn't know himself.
so she? she runs the opposite direction. she's not going anywhere. it doesn't matter. the wilds are hers. ]