Redhawk Caldera Say it soft and it's almost like praying

She looked sore when she moved, and he regretted making her get up and come to him, though she seemed to relax a bit once she was beside him. He caught a glimpse of the wounds along her shoulder- and he'd thought that they'd been healed better than that. Perhaps she had moved the wrong way and had torn them open again, or perhaps his memory still wasn't back to what it should have been; it was impossible for him to separate his recent dreams from real memories.

Her question didn't sit well with the grief he felt in his stomach, but he figured she was just asking how he felt physically. "A bit," He said, though there was no real conviction to his voice. "Just wanted...Bit of fresh air," He said, though there was a heaviness in his words. There was so much else that he wanted as well- but there was no way he could possibly go back in time and try to fix things. "You OK?" He asked, hoping that switching the topic to be her might keep her from asking the hard questions he would inevitably have to answer.