[ He's still. The kind of deathly still that people go when they don't want to be noticed. The smell of burning flesh is thick now, they've reached the last few. There aren't many people guarding those already branded. Not with all of them like Trevor is, immobilised by shock and metal chains, bodies shutting down in response to the trauma of the burns. He knows how this goes. There'll be a shout, soon, to drag them all to the gallows.
He'll be the strongest, the one who has had the longest to recover. He'll have time to break his own chains and those of the person next to him, to hoise them onto his back and to run. And he will run, faster than his body can truly manage, and he won't wonder why nothing stops him or what the small impacts against his back are. It'll only be when the pain takes over and his body starts shutting down again and he has to stop to vomit that he realises the boy he picked up is riddled with arrows, that he's inadvertently used them as a human shield. And he won't care.
So maybe it's better if none of that happens. If he just stays still and waits.
There's something cool against him. Lips. That's not right. That's not how this went. ]
Something smells like shit. [ He slurs his words slightly, not entirely present. It takes him a moment to even try to get his bearings, to go through a list of things that could logically be the source of a bad smell. Something dead. Himself. Animal droppings of some sort. People droppings of some sort. Or- ] -...it's Dog, isn't it?
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He'll be the strongest, the one who has had the longest to recover. He'll have time to break his own chains and those of the person next to him, to hoise them onto his back and to run. And he will run, faster than his body can truly manage, and he won't wonder why nothing stops him or what the small impacts against his back are. It'll only be when the pain takes over and his body starts shutting down again and he has to stop to vomit that he realises the boy he picked up is riddled with arrows, that he's inadvertently used them as a human shield. And he won't care.
So maybe it's better if none of that happens. If he just stays still and waits.
There's something cool against him. Lips. That's not right. That's not how this went. ]
Something smells like shit. [ He slurs his words slightly, not entirely present. It takes him a moment to even try to get his bearings, to go through a list of things that could logically be the source of a bad smell. Something dead. Himself. Animal droppings of some sort. People droppings of some sort. Or- ] -...it's Dog, isn't it?