Roland's hand is gripped around a wrist. Roland's hand is next to his face. He can see the large welts there and frowns, raises his other hand to poke at them.
Roland's hand is gripped around a wrist. That wrist is attached to an arm, a shoulder. A face. A familiar face.
"Firo, you have to leave. Now. You must, you must, before the end- the start- the end-"
Roland's hand is gripped around a wrist. That wrist is attached to a hand. He stares at it. The palm faces toward him.
"The end, the start," he murmurs to himself, absently. "It never took you. It'll never take anyone. Only me, I think."
He shudders. The wind blows heat out through the doorway, that heat.
There's a hand attached to the wrist which is gripped in Roland's. He stares at it.
The door, Firo's hand, the door. His eyes can't settle on one. The wind blows heat out through the doorway, heat and that acrid smell. He shudders. There is a wrist under his fingers, skin. It's warm.
"Firo." These words come slow, slurred. Forced out of a mouth - surely not his - from a great distance. "Were you trying to slap me?"
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Roland's hand is gripped around a wrist. That wrist is attached to an arm, a shoulder. A face. A familiar face.
"Firo, you have to leave. Now. You must, you must, before the end- the start- the end-"
Roland's hand is gripped around a wrist. That wrist is attached to a hand. He stares at it. The palm faces toward him.
"The end, the start," he murmurs to himself, absently. "It never took you. It'll never take anyone. Only me, I think."
He shudders. The wind blows heat out through the doorway, that heat.
There's a hand attached to the wrist which is gripped in Roland's. He stares at it.
The door, Firo's hand, the door. His eyes can't settle on one. The wind blows heat out through the doorway, heat and that acrid smell. He shudders. There is a wrist under his fingers, skin. It's warm.
"Firo." These words come slow, slurred. Forced out of a mouth - surely not his - from a great distance. "Were you trying to slap me?"