slow burning to the ground

if i let go, would you hold on, would we fly?

is it safer if we just say that we tried?

He would stumble, if not for the arm that braces around him — a hiss slipping from him as Zeph applies a bit of pressure just to keep him upright. But his arm slips around Zeph’s shoulders, clinging, while Haai trudges begins them, following them to the clinic. Sunjata knows Nate isn’t there — knows Nate’s sitting at home waiting for him to return from an errand run that took far too long than it should have.

The tinge of iron and singed hair and skin is burned into his nose as he half stumbles with Zeph into the clinic, vision starting to spot again as soon as they stop and Vai rounds the corner. Sunjata’s jaw clenches again, working with Zeph to sit on the fresh bed, incapable of telling Zeph the thank you he deserves for helping him get here. Even if it wasn’t home, it was safe.

He leans forward a small amount, arms braced on the bed, right arm twitching with the pressure. “Sea panther. Electrocuted.” He grits out, hissing as his head starts to throb again anew. Hopefully Zeph can fill in the blanks.

are we laughing at the danger?

are we dancing after death, you and I?