Kaisel
With the bright flare of Ronin's phoenix breaking out ahead of them, blessed heat curling mud up into flaking ground once more, the plan begins to come together. The weary family watches with some measure of hope, coated in enough wet and cold mud to wring it out of their clothing should they choose, so the promise of something warm and dry is a sight to behold.
They join Kaisel in the trenches behind the wagon, every member lending shoulder or hand, a few at the playing horse at the yoke. "Alright, one, two, HEAVE!" Kaisel directs after glancing at each and confirming readiness with a nod or a thumbs up from the front. With a combined effort they all pull or push, as is fitting. For a moment, nothing appears to happen. Traction slips, their legs sliding in the mud, but the wheels eventually rotate by a fraction, and eventually the persistence and grit pays off into better momentum. Teddy's seams pop under the weight, his tumsea body folding beneath the rolling wheel, but he gives enough stability to keep the motion headed in the right direction. The front of the wagon breaks over Ronin's freshly baked ground with a sway of success as it shifts from mire to road.
The angle of the wagon now though, the back sunken into the muck, makes getting it all the way there more difficult than it seemed. Their strength is also waning, and the momentum suddenly halts and threatens to roll back for a moment. "Fuck, Ronin!" Kaisel calls out, arms shaking with the strain to hold the vehicle steady. "We're losing it!" He warns, feet sliding back, mud squelching in complaint as he struggles for purchase.
They join Kaisel in the trenches behind the wagon, every member lending shoulder or hand, a few at the playing horse at the yoke. "Alright, one, two, HEAVE!" Kaisel directs after glancing at each and confirming readiness with a nod or a thumbs up from the front. With a combined effort they all pull or push, as is fitting. For a moment, nothing appears to happen. Traction slips, their legs sliding in the mud, but the wheels eventually rotate by a fraction, and eventually the persistence and grit pays off into better momentum. Teddy's seams pop under the weight, his tumsea body folding beneath the rolling wheel, but he gives enough stability to keep the motion headed in the right direction. The front of the wagon breaks over Ronin's freshly baked ground with a sway of success as it shifts from mire to road.
The angle of the wagon now though, the back sunken into the muck, makes getting it all the way there more difficult than it seemed. Their strength is also waning, and the momentum suddenly halts and threatens to roll back for a moment. "Fuck, Ronin!" Kaisel calls out, arms shaking with the strain to hold the vehicle steady. "We're losing it!" He warns, feet sliding back, mud squelching in complaint as he struggles for purchase.
There's darkness in the distance
I'm beggin' for forgiveness
But I know I might resist it
I'm beggin' for forgiveness
But I know I might resist it
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
