Stone Circle We cannot be equal

Whether she approached or not, he couldn’t truly tell; things were blurry, her face coming in and out of focus. He was exhausted and hungry, sick and hurting—his body wanted so desperately to just sink to the ground and stay there but his mind simply wouldn’t let it. Laurel was there and he needed to protect her—he needed to keep her safe, he couldn’t let her down, not again. But as she spoke he could only nod in response, whilst his hind end slowly sunk towards the ground until he was sitting; he remained upright, not letting himself fall entirely, but he couldn’t stay standing any longer.

“’m sorry…” he muttered, repeating the phrase once or twice before quieting again. Maybe if he just closed his eyes for a second, just took a short nap, he would awake feeling better; somewhere in the back of his head, he knew that wasn’t how life worked. But he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer, lids slowly drifting shut—then snapped back open as she called for his sister, startled back into consciousness. Blinking, his vision slowly came back into focus, gaze trained on her. He wanted to reach out to her, just rest his head against her own and assure himself she wasn’t going to leave, but his body refused to move. Remaining where he sat, he nodded slowly, only then realising that she told him he needed to regain his strength.

Yeah, she was right. How could he keep her safe without his strength? “Tired…” he mumbled, head hanging. He knew she called for his sister—he was at Easthollow, wasn’t he? He couldn’t remember now—and he found himself wondering if she might let him sleep. If she just watched over Laurel for a few minutes, he could sleep and recharge, then be ready to take over the shift; the infection-inspired delirium took over, at last, filling his head with impossible ideas.