This: the cool spring earth beneath him. His hands scrabbling into dirt and pebbles, fingers digging into the soft loam. Cold toes embedded in cold earth. Elbows. Knees. Thighs. Hips. His trembling breath in the darkness.
He had waited for too long before diving through the fire, and all he could remember was the sight of it all around him—
The acrid stench of burnt hair filled his nose. The golden mess splayed over his shoulders was mostly as it had been mere minutes ago, but the tips were uneven; melted. It didn't look to be too bad.
He felt his pulse thunder through his body, the vibration in his veins compounded by the solid earth he lay on. His heart pounded in his chest, a frantic, frightened thing. Slowly, he forced his clenched jaws apart, licking his lips. He wanted to swallow the night. The river. The cold, the fire-free.
Beneath the cloak, his tunic had ridden up his hips when he rolled out from underneath the fire. His bare calves were pale in the starlight, the cloak spread over his back and pooled around his knees. He remained motionless a couple of seconds longer, holding on to the earth and listening to what went on around him.
No pain sang through his body.
He came to the conclusion that he was unharmed, aside from a knee he must've fallen on when dropping through the fire. It throbbed a little, but he figured it'd pass within minutes. But that was pretty much where the good ended and the worse began: he was half-naked in a strange forest, far away from home, uncertain of how he'd gotten there, and of how he would get back.
More importantly, he was out there at all. He .. did not want to be out there. Softly cursing Rory began to push himself up with his hands, to get a better look at who might be paying attention to him. He didn't quite want to start climbing to his feet before ensuring his modesty would not get further compromised by doing so. This all was bad enough as it was.
[ Set directly after {DROP} Teine is fortan, probably aJigano and whoever else is around! ]
He had waited for too long before diving through the fire, and all he could remember was the sight of it all around him—
The acrid stench of burnt hair filled his nose. The golden mess splayed over his shoulders was mostly as it had been mere minutes ago, but the tips were uneven; melted. It didn't look to be too bad.
He felt his pulse thunder through his body, the vibration in his veins compounded by the solid earth he lay on. His heart pounded in his chest, a frantic, frightened thing. Slowly, he forced his clenched jaws apart, licking his lips. He wanted to swallow the night. The river. The cold, the fire-free.
Beneath the cloak, his tunic had ridden up his hips when he rolled out from underneath the fire. His bare calves were pale in the starlight, the cloak spread over his back and pooled around his knees. He remained motionless a couple of seconds longer, holding on to the earth and listening to what went on around him.
No pain sang through his body.
He came to the conclusion that he was unharmed, aside from a knee he must've fallen on when dropping through the fire. It throbbed a little, but he figured it'd pass within minutes. But that was pretty much where the good ended and the worse began: he was half-naked in a strange forest, far away from home, uncertain of how he'd gotten there, and of how he would get back.
More importantly, he was out there at all. He .. did not want to be out there. Softly cursing Rory began to push himself up with his hands, to get a better look at who might be paying attention to him. He didn't quite want to start climbing to his feet before ensuring his modesty would not get further compromised by doing so. This all was bad enough as it was.
[ Set directly after {DROP} Teine is fortan, probably a
