Lion Head Mesa toy soldier's march

see NOW you get a proper apology! here's a doodle for patience, gucci's knight in shining armor ↓

it was with eyes firmly shut and his quadruped grip as firm that gucci spent the short yet tense journey - to avoid being blinded by water, as much as to not see what's become of his home kingdom, or - he flinched at the thought - whatever might float up from beneath at this inopportune moment.

his reply to the young man's shout was stalled by needing to sputter. spitting off to the side, he cracked an eyelid open just enough to see the light.

gawds witcha, son. the older man mumbled, not letting himself feel any ease just yet.

not until his steed had placed four paws on solid ground, and the former vizier of pharaohs rolled off and flattened to the dry rock with a wet and splashing schalp. he wheezed for air the fall sent out of him, and with the inhale began to tremble as the sneaking outside breeze caressed the length of his fattened spine.

gawds! he cried, and his composure went with it. the chihuahua shivered, chin to the ground and hindlimbs splayed out without a smidge of will to get up.

gawds... was that tears or stale water stinging his eyes? a paw furiously wiped it away all the same.

you... mah man, mah good man. gucci turned his head to look at his rescuer in full. what sentcha here? 'cause this moment, ah ain't so sure y'ain't an angel.