[ He'd gasped, that first moment he'd felt himself free; turned to do— what. Amos' first instinct had been to kill his captor, and even as he'd moved to try to do just that, he'd lost his footing, still too weak to really do anything. He'd caught sight of Estinien before falling, before he helped bring himself down and made it easier for their guards to get him back under control, with some good reminders along the way to not try that again.
At some point while on the ground, amid the blooming pain and feeling two new whips around him, he'd decided to just not be there anymore. So he isn't.
He's mechanically eating his ration when Estinien makes his next attempt. The sounds of the commotion bring Amos back up to the surface, just barely. Food abandoned, he meets Estinien's eyes, and there's just barely a flicker of recognition there.
And then he's gone again.
It takes a moment for Estinien's words to penetrate. Amos blinks and turns his head towards him, slow, like he's only just reemerging from a fog. Everything feels heavy, and tired, like more than just his body has been bruised.
He's silent a moment longer than that, like he has to remember how to speak, too. That it's okay if he makes a sound. (He's still not entirely sure if it is, one foot in this world, the other elsewhere.) ]
I... [ It's a croak, at first. There's a half-hearted attempt at clearing his throat. ] Sometimes it's easier to just go with it.
[ The resignation is already set in deep. Like he's felt this before, and yeah, giving up might be the way to go. ]
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At some point while on the ground, amid the blooming pain and feeling two new whips around him, he'd decided to just not be there anymore. So he isn't.
He's mechanically eating his ration when Estinien makes his next attempt. The sounds of the commotion bring Amos back up to the surface, just barely. Food abandoned, he meets Estinien's eyes, and there's just barely a flicker of recognition there.
And then he's gone again.
It takes a moment for Estinien's words to penetrate. Amos blinks and turns his head towards him, slow, like he's only just reemerging from a fog. Everything feels heavy, and tired, like more than just his body has been bruised.
He's silent a moment longer than that, like he has to remember how to speak, too. That it's okay if he makes a sound. (He's still not entirely sure if it is, one foot in this world, the other elsewhere.) ]
I... [ It's a croak, at first. There's a half-hearted attempt at clearing his throat. ] Sometimes it's easier to just go with it.
[ The resignation is already set in deep. Like he's felt this before, and yeah, giving up might be the way to go. ]