Any sane person would tell him--and had--that it was too little, too late. Eli had been missing for far too long now. Desperation, however, was one hell of a drug. He didn’t want to believe--couldn’t believe that his youngest sibling was gone. Not after everything else that had happened; he and Shinri could barely maintain eye contact for more than a few seconds at a time, much less anything else. Rowena was constantly angry with him at this point, punctuated by pity he didn’t want nor need. Eli--he couldn’t stand losing their little sibling (because of his own mistakes.)
His hair is plastered to his face and neck from the downpour; between the thick layer of mist and the water constantly running into his eyes, it’s grown near impossible to see, but he keeps stumbling onward, practically using his sword as a crutch when he stumbles on uneven ground. His voice his still rough and breathing labored from the fire, but he keeps on calling for Elisheva, over and over--only to stop suddenly, hunching over as he coughs from the strain on his damaged lungs.
Zekrom nudges him in concern. He’s going to catch his death out here if he keeps this up; they gingerly move one of their wings to shield Adair from the rain as he recovers. It’s only been days since the pain in his arm had subsided enough for him to go out much at all and immediately be began his desperate hunt for his sibling. They try to suggest to him that he should stop--rest, get out of this storm before he makes things even worse for himself, but he doesn’t listen.
Adair’s lungs are burning when he finally catches his breath, resting his weight heavy on his sheathed sword with rasping wheezes--then pushes himself upright and starts walking again, raising his voice to echo out over the distant rumble of thunder and steady drum of rain.
