galestrings:
Revali whirls on the spot, hardly thinking, hardly realizing it, and yet his hand closes hard over Teba’s with all the venomous intent in the world – so hard that, for one mad second, he’s sure he wants nothing more than to break his arm.
There’s red on those feathers; it’s blood, dark and flaking in the heat that had drawn it. Is it his own? Is it Teba’s?
“Go.” It’s an order – a warning. “Go home, Teba. Go home.”
And again, he bats him away – for the last time. The grass itself seems to burn under his turning heel as he tromps up the hill, up to where the machines lurk just beyond the ruins. Still no bow; got to get back in the air. He’ll find it once he’s in the air – !
But he already knows. He knows, somehow, that it won’t happen. That he can beat his wings as hard as he can – beat them and beat them beat them – and he still won’t fly. He can’t – !
The grass rises, the leaves rise, the dirt and cobble scatters in the gale growing around him under his thrashing arms. Everything except him flies, and he still won’t stop. He will not stop – this is it.
This has to be it.
Feels like he faces the full strength of the wind and here he is with his feet still firmly on the ground. The very ground that almost threatens to unearth, talons sinking into the mud with the very real fear he might just take off with it. Truly incredible, if it were any other time. Here, it’s desperation, it’s painstaking. It’s drawing unwanted attention--!
The sound of mechanical limbs spur closer through the fog and his heart jumps somewhere drastic. Teba goes to grab for them again, push them against the hill— he’s felt the sting in their eye and he’s still prepared to risk it. Worse yet, he reaches to grab them at their wings where he knows it hurts; pain even the foolish and bravest can’t ignore.
“Stop--!”
“Look.” He’ll force them to see the damage; he’ll pull those singed and broken feathers into view. “You can’t--! You can’t.” Sympathy tries to ebb away at the bite in his tone— the severity, but he won’t let it. “You don’t get to die here— to waste it all for nothing. You have no right.”
“This attack has failed. You retreat and live to fight another day.” His attention constantly flickers, wild-eyed and fearful to whatever might veer too closely beyond that hill. He’s expecting a flash of blue any second—and he doesn’t know what the hell he could ever do to stop it.
“Please.” He looks to them again, it allows his gaze to refocus. “If there’s any chance of getting out of this-- Revali, I need you with me.”
