until their dying breath
#9
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He didn't believe him, but didn't question it verbally. Plenty of men fell to the forces they had always triumphed over previously; that was why they fell in the end. No one could stay immune forever; it was arrogant and admirable to think the contrary all at once though. His temperature only seemed to rise, but the cooling evening air felt like ice against his back and for a moment, he felt as if his fingers were frostbitten. Where're we going? he wondered. His voice had become a strained whisper against his friend's ear.



Time went by, but he didn't notice. The sunlight was out of his eyes now, at least, and he felt better. Let me walk, the hybrid mumbled, I can walk. He wasn't entirely sure of this claim, but was suddenly aware again of how much strain he was causing the other. He'd never wanted to be a burden, to anyone. Self-reliance. He'd never wanted to depend on anyone either; no, that only led to sad stories and sunsets and fires that smoldered with endless smoke.

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