[ You cannot beat a river into submission creeps out of memory and plays around in his head, but if it's their ground they're standing, so be it.
That thing will need a neck for the noose before the rope is taught enough to cut. If they're not moving, there are only two necks on offer. Perhaps what he can do will prove less relevant than what he can be. ]
That way.
[ The direction he's facing, raising a hand to make it more certain as he too sinks in, settling himself with hands raised in readiness to cast. ]
I don't know how fast it comes. Watch the earth.
[ This much they know by now, the way everything in the wake of the towering creatures is left impossibly more arid, but there's the clue of the feasted-on demon too. Is it still in clutches? Fighting the urge to open again his one unnatural eye, stilled by the possibility that they may only have one pursuant on their hands, that the other is not yet lured by what may well have been the call of being seen, he squints out for that caught demon, wills it to bring them some clarity. ]
The prey. Can you see?
[ Does it still wither?
It's about now that a pouch attached to the belt at his waist starts to wriggle and leap. Before Stephen can so much as glance down at it, the drawstring shortens as gloop forces its way through, stretching out until gravity (even here, still the inevitability of physics) pulls it all in one mass down toward the earth. It's taken shape before it even lands, a familiar little figure that glances back up at them both for a merry couple of seconds before something seems to catch in a throat it doesn't have. And just like that, the little creature gasps for little breaths, attention narrowed out on an empty horizon and a not-quite-hand patting rhythmically against Stephen's leg.
Not frantic, not yet. Just a steady press for his attention. ]
no subject
That thing will need a neck for the noose before the rope is taught enough to cut. If they're not moving, there are only two necks on offer. Perhaps what he can do will prove less relevant than what he can be. ]
That way.
[ The direction he's facing, raising a hand to make it more certain as he too sinks in, settling himself with hands raised in readiness to cast. ]
I don't know how fast it comes. Watch the earth.
[ This much they know by now, the way everything in the wake of the towering creatures is left impossibly more arid, but there's the clue of the feasted-on demon too. Is it still in clutches? Fighting the urge to open again his one unnatural eye, stilled by the possibility that they may only have one pursuant on their hands, that the other is not yet lured by what may well have been the call of being seen, he squints out for that caught demon, wills it to bring them some clarity. ]
The prey. Can you see?
[ Does it still wither?
It's about now that a pouch attached to the belt at his waist starts to wriggle and leap. Before Stephen can so much as glance down at it, the drawstring shortens as gloop forces its way through, stretching out until gravity (even here, still the inevitability of physics) pulls it all in one mass down toward the earth. It's taken shape before it even lands, a familiar little figure that glances back up at them both for a merry couple of seconds before something seems to catch in a throat it doesn't have. And just like that, the little creature gasps for little breaths, attention narrowed out on an empty horizon and a not-quite-hand patting rhythmically against Stephen's leg.
Not frantic, not yet. Just a steady press for his attention. ]