NATE
For a single moment, Nate could see it, the belief on Amun’s face. Delight glittered in his one bright eye, sharp grin growing and growing until he can’t feel his cheeks. And when that moment shatters, when the potters smile twists, grows fangs, Nate throws his head back and laughs, cackles, the sound ringing in his ears, over the ice. Whether it echoes forever, or just for him, doesn’t matter.
It’s a good thing he’s already sitting when the ice begins to move, steadying himself an impossibility, the way he still laughs, now in the face of silent instructions. There’s no choice, none at all. Nate has to remain on the ice, can’t chance the water. The cold is already bad enough, he doesn’t need to go diving to make it worse. And with the way he’s drifting, away from the accursed potter, he’s going to reach the egg in no time. Obviously.
Nate stays put!
It’s a good thing he’s already sitting when the ice begins to move, steadying himself an impossibility, the way he still laughs, now in the face of silent instructions. There’s no choice, none at all. Nate has to remain on the ice, can’t chance the water. The cold is already bad enough, he doesn’t need to go diving to make it worse. And with the way he’s drifting, away from the accursed potter, he’s going to reach the egg in no time. Obviously.
Nate stays put!
I am tasting myself
In the mouth of the sun
In the mouth of the sun
