[ there's something different about their surrounds after the rush has passed with the crash of the hatch shutting the dolls within the shelter. there's something he hasn't felt in weeks, and it wasn't the cold of a cement floor or iron bars. ]
The Old, [ he's catching his breath, foremost, but what gets him to slow his words is the pang of gripe and strain along the basis of his new jaws. skin has torn and bleeds out from his movement as much as his earlier labor towards speaking, saliva accumulates in places he's not accustomed to— his cheeks feel numb and swollen, and they're so much worse in appearance than a dislodged tooth that could be quelled with ice cream. his voice becomes a tight lipped mutter as he swallows and gently pads at the would-be corners of his distorted mouth. ] Growth.
[ he uses the collar of his already dirty shirt for that, and it smudges further with froth and blood. he's not looking much at it— he's looking upward, finally, at a dark pink sky lit with specks of stars behind purple clouds. the wind, fresh air, sweeps at his face and fills his lungs. he eyes the migration of a pair of sparrows flying for shelter as the night came.
he could cry, just by seeing their little wings beat. falco doesn't even see when it was that his knees sank into dead leaves and earth. ]
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The Old, [ he's catching his breath, foremost, but what gets him to slow his words is the pang of gripe and strain along the basis of his new jaws. skin has torn and bleeds out from his movement as much as his earlier labor towards speaking, saliva accumulates in places he's not accustomed to— his cheeks feel numb and swollen, and they're so much worse in appearance than a dislodged tooth that could be quelled with ice cream. his voice becomes a tight lipped mutter as he swallows and gently pads at the would-be corners of his distorted mouth. ] Growth.
[ he uses the collar of his already dirty shirt for that, and it smudges further with froth and blood. he's not looking much at it— he's looking upward, finally, at a dark pink sky lit with specks of stars behind purple clouds. the wind, fresh air, sweeps at his face and fills his lungs. he eyes the migration of a pair of sparrows flying for shelter as the night came.
he could cry, just by seeing their little wings beat. falco doesn't even see when it was that his knees sank into dead leaves and earth. ]