[ dextera has frozen to death before and has already decided it’s one of the more unpleasant ways to go. the threat is enough to carefully place his hand—cold, clammy, and obviously dry under the sheen of mucus from the chrysalis—and attempt to pull himself shakily to his feet. ]
…
[ he doesn’t meet the stranger’s eyes, instead staring down at their hands. it seems obvious to him, if only drawing on his own experience. ]
D… [ his tongue hits the back of his teeth hard as he tries to get one sound out, if not a word. ]
no subject
…
[ he doesn’t meet the stranger’s eyes, instead staring down at their hands. it seems obvious to him, if only drawing on his own experience. ]
D… [ his tongue hits the back of his teeth hard as he tries to get one sound out, if not a word. ]