first meetings are tough, @wingedshieldâ
Itâd been so long since heâd been thoroughly human that he nearly didnât register just how much things hurt. Ribs ached, his shoulder throbbed, and the beating heâd have taken without a blink of his eye was suddenly something far more serious. Sand coated half his face, red mask half buried from where it now lay (thank god, because he couldnât deal with that right now - he really couldnât). His knuckles ached from fighting back. A finger throbbed; had he really broken it?Â
Steve wasnât sure. But then again, he wasnât sure of a lot of things at the moment.
The blows had stopped, however, bodies quiet, and though serum may not flow through his veins he wasnât about to meet an ally face down in the sand. So with a groan, he pushed himself up, spitting blood before turning to sit heavily in the soft sand.
Wincing, he peered up through a half lidded eye. Hoping to god that whoever this was perhaps didnât put two and two together. âYou know, havenât had a beating like that since calling out the school bully for swiping lunch money. Iâd offer you that now, but got all the way here without it. Thanks...â














