[o] [PQ] [SE] Restorations

JUST STARING AT THE SUNRISE
ABOVE THIS HOLLOW TOWN
BEEN CHASING EMPTY MEMORIES
THE KIND THAT'S KEEPING YOU DOWN

Half-listening as Noah half-answered, each man struggling with their own physically demanding task, Iskra did catch the abrupt cut of the voice. He turned to glance over his shoulder as he continued to haul and tug upon a board that simply refused to budge, and that simple break of focus to see if everything was alright with Noah was enough to send Iskra stumbling back. His grip had slipped, or rather, slid just as he'd heaved his body weight back, and so with less resistance beneath his momentum, he toppled backwards, a wail parting his lips as he fell on his ass with a resounding thud.

Grumbling and muttering under his breath, Iskra got back to his feet after a moment of soaking in the defeat. He paused to stretch as he stood, rubbing absently at the dull ache that settled around his tailbone, Noah's woes forgotten in place of his own, especially as there did not seem to be distress from over there. Grabbing for his axe again, a certain fury lining his movements now, he took an extra step as he went to swing, intending to put every bit of power her had into that crack of metal against wood. He'd send that sharpened edge over and over again against this absurdly stubborn board if he had to. He'd cart it away splinter by gods damned splinter—he would not yield to any bit of lumber. Yet, before his blow connected, the glitter of something caught his eye. His arms jerked, and the axe slowed. He brought it back to his side, leaning in to scrutinize the board. Liam found it first, with Noah, but it was here too.

Nearly growling under his breath, Iskra aimed the metal edge of the hatchet towards the plant, angling it to try and dislodge the icy armor.

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Iskra hacks at the plant with his axe

THIS SENSE OF INDECISION
AIN'T WHAT WE HAD IN MIND
THE DREAM THAT I ENVISIONED
I AM STILL HOPING TO FIND