[ the boy’s hand rests on the other’s shoulder, his own glance drifting toward the invading presence of the stag’s hooves kicking gravel into the trench as it approached with more of its head above them, to catch sight of them. at least, falco finds his chest deflating with some relief, but that doesn’t chip off the worry he’s got with paul’s injuries. he listens carefully— after everything, he’ll attentively stop whatever he’s doing to, and to express that he’s listening, that he’s understanding, his head bobs. his eyes never leave, only going to the other’s injury and the sight of dark crimson smudging the dirt wall.
he had to find him, he had to make that he was okay, that this wouldn’t carry over, that if this was at most, a dreamscape, then he would be alright. but only if his own eyes confirmed it. besides that—
paul just carried him across a hazardous battlefield with his own injuries to grit through. he owed him for the act, as much of a memory this was for falco. now, it was a new one. ]
It’s Falco. Falco Grice—
[ paul may have barely heard his last name, a ring, or a shadow of a dream he’d be waking up to. and just like that, the stag’s frozen, crystalline horns chime; they’re back where they were supposed to be.
but falco, too, wasn’t the only one promptly on a search for the young man as soon as he was able. he was rested, felt better than he has in days. perle, a petite pygmy falcon, is in the sky. below her is the blond boy; cloaked, armed, considering what trench was, but keeping his sights up on her to follow suit. ]
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he had to find him, he had to make that he was okay, that this wouldn’t carry over, that if this was at most, a dreamscape, then he would be alright. but only if his own eyes confirmed it. besides that—
paul just carried him across a hazardous battlefield with his own injuries to grit through. he owed him for the act, as much of a memory this was for falco. now, it was a new one. ]
It’s Falco. Falco Grice—
[ paul may have barely heard his last name, a ring, or a shadow of a dream he’d be waking up to. and just like that, the stag’s frozen, crystalline horns chime; they’re back where they were supposed to be.
but falco, too, wasn’t the only one promptly on a search for the young man as soon as he was able. he was rested, felt better than he has in days. perle, a petite pygmy falcon, is in the sky. below her is the blond boy; cloaked, armed, considering what trench was, but keeping his sights up on her to follow suit. ]