[ He looks up in the direction of the sound, and he's shaking. Sypha is- somewhere. Somewhere ahead. And there's glass. There's glass there. There shouldn't be glass there but there is glass there because he can't manage the simplest fucking task. A task that every fucking creature on the planet can achieve. He can't move water to his mouth without failing and making everything worse.
The air feels cold in his lungs. He's breathing too quickly. He doesn't feel like he's breathing at all. ]
-there's glass. [ He manages, and it's the smallest his voice has ever been in Sypha's presence. ]
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The air feels cold in his lungs. He's breathing too quickly. He doesn't feel like he's breathing at all. ]
-there's glass. [ He manages, and it's the smallest his voice has ever been in Sypha's presence. ]