[ by a miracle (or just a dose of luck), the boy’s body is unscathed from anything life threatening, but easily lightweight to lift. besides a couple of deeper scrapes and hematomas, the only glaring injury was to falco’s temple; blood slid from the blow where he had landed right on his head. the rest, arms, legs— no broken bones, no grizzly amputations and nothing missing. perhaps, he’s only missing some of his clarity, shown to eyes that put up a fight to open and stay open. he looks as if he’s about to fall asleep, squinting to make out the spinning blur that comes over him. he even slurs his words, soft amidst the growing background ambience of gunfire only accelerating. ]
Brother—?
[ it should be, it’s how he remembers this, but it was a young man that may share colt’s age, but not appearance; his hair is as dark as bark and hardly as clipped as the regular soldiers keep them. never mind that— more importantly, falco does attempt to steady a foot and then the other.
his whole world spins again and his balance tilts sideways into a fall if he were to be left on his own, only using the other’s shoulder to grip consciously and with concern: ]
Be careful, sir . . .
[ a soldier not too far in front of them is running back to the trenches with his back turned— and immediately shot down. ]
no subject
Brother—?
[ it should be, it’s how he remembers this, but it was a young man that may share colt’s age, but not appearance; his hair is as dark as bark and hardly as clipped as the regular soldiers keep them. never mind that— more importantly, falco does attempt to steady a foot and then the other.
his whole world spins again and his balance tilts sideways into a fall if he were to be left on his own, only using the other’s shoulder to grip consciously and with concern: ]
Be careful, sir . . .
[ a soldier not too far in front of them is running back to the trenches with his back turned— and immediately shot down. ]