[Temper? Don't start with him. Akira laces his arms tight across his chest, eyeing those stones that Solomon's slipping into his pockets. It isn't the biting cold that has the hairs at his nape standing on end, a spell wrapped around him to ward off the pervasive chill.
He'd feel better if he could merely blame the snow and the ice for the unease that pits in his throat, hardens like stone. The smell of smoke, acrid, stings his nostrils and propels him forward. Faster and faster strides, the distant screaming compelling him into motion.]
Stay right there. We're going back.
[They can't stay here. They can't. Akira knows the smell of death on the air, a scent that brings to mind the sound of chains dragging along the ground. Run, they have to run, and he isn't running away alone.]
yay... ha ha ha... yay!!
He'd feel better if he could merely blame the snow and the ice for the unease that pits in his throat, hardens like stone. The smell of smoke, acrid, stings his nostrils and propels him forward. Faster and faster strides, the distant screaming compelling him into motion.]
Stay right there. We're going back.
[They can't stay here. They can't. Akira knows the smell of death on the air, a scent that brings to mind the sound of chains dragging along the ground. Run, they have to run, and he isn't running away alone.]