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12-21-2015, 01:58 PM
 There was sand in his nose, which meant he was home. That was nice. Zero blinked blearily, rising slowly from the sea of murky dreams where he'd fallen as soon as they left the disaster zone. He'd been a zombie the whole sullen adventure home, quiet and exhausted, a sleepwalking child. Healing took energy, and the boy's reserves had run quite dry. As soon as they crossed the bridge he'd quietly collapsed, knees buckling and body falling to the earth in a smooth, silent motion. Within seconds he was fast asleep. But now he was ready to wake up. Raised voices had penetrated his dreams, causing mahogany ears to twitch; he struggled on that brink between asleep and awake, and awake finally won. It might have been because of the argument, or perhaps because his wing had begun to hurt all over again, a dull and constant ache that would remain with him for weeks. He frowned, licking at dry lips, and tried to raise his powerfully heavy head from the sand. Words drifted past him like butterflies - "What do you..." and "...drop..." and "...able to teach Zero..." And finally it clicked, and the boy sprung awake with a vehement, desperate, "No!" He struggled to his feet, trying to ignore the pain spreading down his shoulder and into his ribs (where a mighty bruise had now formed), sunbeam eyes wide as he stared at his Ma. Was she quitting? Because of him? Was this because of what he'd done, because he'd tried to fly and failed, because she thought he couldn't handle himself? Had any of his (maybe) siblings suffered this fate? No- Gaucho had never quit for them! Furious tears sprung to his eyes. He wasn't about to be the reason his Ma gave up on her dreams. "Y'don' need t' quit 'cus'a me," he sputtered, his voice a babbling brook of broken words struggling to reach its destination fast enough. "'cus I'm not a baby 'm a'mos' two now Ma an' you're the best Ma ever an' I love you an' all I wan'ed was t' be strong an' brave as you, an'... an'...." He was losing his train of thought. Sleep still hung heavily to his brain, and he struck it like a train against a wall, suddenly falling silent and sullen, a harsh expression on his youthful face. He directed it toward Gaucho, and his eyes told a clear story of Hey, you can't let her do this. You guys are grown ups. Fix it. |
- table by Niki -
@Gaucho
