((Soren Rosendahl continued from The Land of Shadow))
Soren’s lungs burned as he ran, the world seeming to blur around him as he got farther and farther from the tar pits. His body ached, but he willed himself to keep moving, focusing his thoughts on putting one foot in front of the other. He couldn’t let himself get caught in the open. He was too much of an easy target.
Relief soon appeared in the form of a large structure in the distance. Soren approached it cautiously. It looked like the entrance to some sort of underground mine. He paused for a moment before the maw of the tunnel, staring into a darkness that looked as if it was about to swallow him whole. It probably wouldn’t be a good idea to travel too far inside.
Nevertheless, shade was always welcome. After a quick glance around to make sure he wasn’t being followed, Soren ducked inside the entrance, taking a seat a few meters away from the opening. He sighed, resting his head against the wall as he sat in the darkness, completely alone with his thoughts.
As it turned out, that left him in rather bad company.
He swallowed hard as the regrets began to fill his mind. He shouldn’t have left Paris behind. The two of them could have taken on Jason, weapon or no weapon. But instead he had left his friend behind with a violent attacker.
Soren’s body trembled as the speed of his breathing increased. The walls of the tunnel seemed to be closing in on him, with the light getting farther and farther away.
His best friend could be dead right now, and if he was, it would be
all
his
fault.
A pathetic wheeze began to escape from Soren's throat. “No...no...no…”
His teeth grinded together painfully as he felt his muscles twitching, one at a time. He opened and closed his fists while suppressing the urge to bang his head against the wall behind him.
Why was he such a weakling? He had to stop, get himself under control. There had to be some way to fix his mistake. There just had to be. Soren gasped for air as the enormity of the situation came crashing down upon him yet again, his body almost unable to take it.
“Please no…”
He took a couple deep breaths. This wasn’t the first time he had felt like this, but it was the worst it had been for a long while. He clasped his hands together, muttering a prayer pleading for it to stop, for God to give him the strength to move on.
The pounding in his chest eased a little, but it seemed like he was going to be incapacitated for a little while longer...
The Sickness Unto Death
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Rattlesnake
- Posts: 190
- Joined: Wed Aug 08, 2018 10:23 pm
G027: Start
Well... it was dark.
She wasn't honestly sure what she'd expected.
It was still early in her personal day, though going by the sun she'd briefly seen it was late morning already, or maybe the afternoon. Tessa felt that distinction was better left to clocks and the status of lunchtime than the angle of the shade cast on some unknown patch of dirt or exactly how much she felt like throwing up.
She hefted the rifle a bit and let it settle back down to where it squeezed her collarbone. The thing was almost as massive as the headache she nursed. So big they'd just left it laying over her pack where they left her. Not inside. It wouldn't fit. And that had come as a blow so massive she almost hadn't dared to figure out what she meant by it. The solution had been quite simple, though. What did she think she was going to do with it? And what would everyone else think they might be able to do with it?
Claustrophobia was the fear that in some way, you'd never escape the crush. That whatever threatened to bear down on you—the walls of a building or the sides of a box closed behind you, the side panels of a cramped bus, a mass of panicking classmates and screams and gunshots and suffocating heat and why wasn't anyone opening the emergency exits—that whatever you were trapped with would never go away, and then something bad, some thing that was bad enough to twist your stomach upside-down in contemplation and curl its fingers inside your chest like the walls were already crashing down inside your body, would happen. And that would be the end.
If that was your idea of claustrophobia, then she hadn't escaped it. And, because that particular notion was sort of baked into the idea, she wouldn't ever escape it. So she'd turned and wandered into the abyss, where if the roof might be a problem for someone a bit taller she could at least lose touch of the walls and not even know they were there. Maybe let the terror bounce along beside her for a bit. Test out, at the same time, the idea that the vast expanse of nothing was even permeable to the average kid who had the capability to scream and cry and die.
It was just when she was turning back that she'd heard it. The sound of panicked running was peer pressure like she'd never felt before. Yet the darkness congealed before her at the same time. Expelled her with a brutish physicality. She turned and felt her knees wobble and listened to the panicked final pleading of one sardine in the can and tried not to anticpate the gunshot and the yelling and the press of humanity.
...
No splatter. No death. Just labored breathing.
"Hey," she called out in a surprisingly soft voice, trotting out to what she thought might be the edge of sight for whoever it was.
"Hey. I'm not armed."
Well... it was dark.
She wasn't honestly sure what she'd expected.
It was still early in her personal day, though going by the sun she'd briefly seen it was late morning already, or maybe the afternoon. Tessa felt that distinction was better left to clocks and the status of lunchtime than the angle of the shade cast on some unknown patch of dirt or exactly how much she felt like throwing up.
She hefted the rifle a bit and let it settle back down to where it squeezed her collarbone. The thing was almost as massive as the headache she nursed. So big they'd just left it laying over her pack where they left her. Not inside. It wouldn't fit. And that had come as a blow so massive she almost hadn't dared to figure out what she meant by it. The solution had been quite simple, though. What did she think she was going to do with it? And what would everyone else think they might be able to do with it?
Claustrophobia was the fear that in some way, you'd never escape the crush. That whatever threatened to bear down on you—the walls of a building or the sides of a box closed behind you, the side panels of a cramped bus, a mass of panicking classmates and screams and gunshots and suffocating heat and why wasn't anyone opening the emergency exits—that whatever you were trapped with would never go away, and then something bad, some thing that was bad enough to twist your stomach upside-down in contemplation and curl its fingers inside your chest like the walls were already crashing down inside your body, would happen. And that would be the end.
If that was your idea of claustrophobia, then she hadn't escaped it. And, because that particular notion was sort of baked into the idea, she wouldn't ever escape it. So she'd turned and wandered into the abyss, where if the roof might be a problem for someone a bit taller she could at least lose touch of the walls and not even know they were there. Maybe let the terror bounce along beside her for a bit. Test out, at the same time, the idea that the vast expanse of nothing was even permeable to the average kid who had the capability to scream and cry and die.
It was just when she was turning back that she'd heard it. The sound of panicked running was peer pressure like she'd never felt before. Yet the darkness congealed before her at the same time. Expelled her with a brutish physicality. She turned and felt her knees wobble and listened to the panicked final pleading of one sardine in the can and tried not to anticpate the gunshot and the yelling and the press of humanity.
...
No splatter. No death. Just labored breathing.
"Hey," she called out in a surprisingly soft voice, trotting out to what she thought might be the edge of sight for whoever it was.
"Hey. I'm not armed."
Soren’s muttering came to an halt as his head jerked in the direction of the voice emerging from the tunnel. He squinted into the darkness, futilely attempting to catch a glimpse of the intruder upon his despair. Alas, the fading light from the mouth of the tunnel wasn’t enough of a help to him here. His ears were of barely any more use. While the voice was extremely familiar, his shaken mind was unable to connect it to its owner.
The boy sitting in the tunnel was scared, there was no doubt about that. He desperately wanted to get up and book it out of there, but... his muscles felt as if they were made jelly. No amount of pushing was going to get him up out of his position anytime soon. Soren pursed his lips, at he leaned his head back, staring blindly at the darkness above him. It appeared that his well-being now rested in the hands of the girl standing nearby.
At least...at least having someone else here distracted him from his thoughts. Having an immediate problem to worry about was better than his mind going down a seemingly endless spiral of shame and regret. It was a blessing that she wasn’t armed, which eased his nervousness immensely.
He raised a hand to his face and wiped the sweat from his forehead, breathing heavily for a few moments before whimpering a response, asking the question that was foremost in his mind. He had to know if this was somebody trustworthy, or at the least, somebody who wasn’t going to jump him and try to steal his non-existent weapon.
To put it bluntly, someone who wasn’t like Jason.
“Who...who's there?”
The boy sitting in the tunnel was scared, there was no doubt about that. He desperately wanted to get up and book it out of there, but... his muscles felt as if they were made jelly. No amount of pushing was going to get him up out of his position anytime soon. Soren pursed his lips, at he leaned his head back, staring blindly at the darkness above him. It appeared that his well-being now rested in the hands of the girl standing nearby.
At least...at least having someone else here distracted him from his thoughts. Having an immediate problem to worry about was better than his mind going down a seemingly endless spiral of shame and regret. It was a blessing that she wasn’t armed, which eased his nervousness immensely.
He raised a hand to his face and wiped the sweat from his forehead, breathing heavily for a few moments before whimpering a response, asking the question that was foremost in his mind. He had to know if this was somebody trustworthy, or at the least, somebody who wasn’t going to jump him and try to steal his non-existent weapon.
To put it bluntly, someone who wasn’t like Jason.
“Who...who's there?”
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Rattlesnake
- Posts: 190
- Joined: Wed Aug 08, 2018 10:23 pm
The voice that came back was almost startling. Like... yeah, the guy was going to respond. But it still sent her heart racing, knowing how radically the landscape had changed and how little of it was under her purview. Maybe people wouldn't jump so quickly to violence after the results of the last time this had all happened. But it only took one bad apple out of however many people were crammed into that bus, and Tessa wasn't keen on playing the odds when she'd already lost one round so spectacularly.
She padded forward regardless, shifting her hands around on the monster of a rifle she'd been given. Her palm slipped over the stock, so she tried hooking her fingers around the scope instead. The thing had to be twenty pounds of unruly deadweight.
The half-light she broke into revealed little, so she inched forward into the three-quarter-light. That made her an easy target, maybe, but so did... well, everything else. She frowned and squinted at the shape folded against the wall. Hard to read the face, but the whole picture didn't exactly scream delight, so probably he hadn't gotten any funny ideas.
She flopped down, a cascading collapse within her own footprint. Sat with her bag wedged in the corner where her back met the wall, ground her heels a little on the uneven floor, let the rifle hang loosely on its axis with its butt on some choppy protrusion and the barrel rolling its tip into a suitable cranny in the uneven rock behind her head.
She spoke again, briefly, pushing out words that felt just slightly the wrong shape. "It's... it's just me."
She padded forward regardless, shifting her hands around on the monster of a rifle she'd been given. Her palm slipped over the stock, so she tried hooking her fingers around the scope instead. The thing had to be twenty pounds of unruly deadweight.
The half-light she broke into revealed little, so she inched forward into the three-quarter-light. That made her an easy target, maybe, but so did... well, everything else. She frowned and squinted at the shape folded against the wall. Hard to read the face, but the whole picture didn't exactly scream delight, so probably he hadn't gotten any funny ideas.
She flopped down, a cascading collapse within her own footprint. Sat with her bag wedged in the corner where her back met the wall, ground her heels a little on the uneven floor, let the rifle hang loosely on its axis with its butt on some choppy protrusion and the barrel rolling its tip into a suitable cranny in the uneven rock behind her head.
She spoke again, briefly, pushing out words that felt just slightly the wrong shape. "It's... it's just me."
That...wasn’t exactly the answer that Soren wanted to hear.
In any case, it would be pointless to run now. If she was going to hurt him, she was close enough to do so already. A deep sigh escaped from Soren’s lips as he relaxed his muscles, his aching legs still lying lip against the tunnel floor.
He stared blankly at the barely visible silhouette before him, frowning. That voice...it seemed familiar, somehow, but he just couldn’t place it. In any case, it didn’t seem aggressive. Quite the opposite, in fact. She seemed just as tired as Soren was.
For the first time since he got to this island, Soren had found somebody who might possibly be just as scared as him. It was a long shot, but the thought was a welcome relief, all the same. He didn’t know her name, but...at least she seemed more like him than Jason.
He licked his lips as he eyed her over, trying to think of what to say. He had never been good with talking to girls. The boy felt a twinge of pain in his stomach. He should have asked Yumi out when he had the chance. Now it was too late, just like it was too late for him to go back and find Paris.
An uncomfortable silence hung in the air, the seconds slowly ticking away as Soren slowly dragged himself out of the rapidly growing spiral of recriminations. Desperate for a distraction, he opened up to the girl, his quavering voice seeking confirmation of his earlier suspicions.
“You're not going to hurt me, are you?”
In any case, it would be pointless to run now. If she was going to hurt him, she was close enough to do so already. A deep sigh escaped from Soren’s lips as he relaxed his muscles, his aching legs still lying lip against the tunnel floor.
He stared blankly at the barely visible silhouette before him, frowning. That voice...it seemed familiar, somehow, but he just couldn’t place it. In any case, it didn’t seem aggressive. Quite the opposite, in fact. She seemed just as tired as Soren was.
For the first time since he got to this island, Soren had found somebody who might possibly be just as scared as him. It was a long shot, but the thought was a welcome relief, all the same. He didn’t know her name, but...at least she seemed more like him than Jason.
He licked his lips as he eyed her over, trying to think of what to say. He had never been good with talking to girls. The boy felt a twinge of pain in his stomach. He should have asked Yumi out when he had the chance. Now it was too late, just like it was too late for him to go back and find Paris.
An uncomfortable silence hung in the air, the seconds slowly ticking away as Soren slowly dragged himself out of the rapidly growing spiral of recriminations. Desperate for a distraction, he opened up to the girl, his quavering voice seeking confirmation of his earlier suspicions.
“You're not going to hurt me, are you?”
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Rattlesnake
- Posts: 190
- Joined: Wed Aug 08, 2018 10:23 pm
Tessa legitimately laughed a little at the question. Like, actually blew a greater-than-usual quantity of air out her nostrils. Was she going to hurt him? How could she hurt him if she wasn't armed?
Not even armed she thought again, curling a finger around the barrel of the rifle so massive it stretched from the floor up over her head. Hung from it like a tent pole. Frowned a little, and rubbed her other hand over her face. The cogs churned through a dangerous amount of fuzz. Was he... was he really just going to let her have that?
"I don't even know where the safety is on this."
It was unsteady ground. She'd planned on stepping back, steadying herself against her backup claim. Oh, I mean not dangerous to you. The fact that he hadn't taken her to task for what was really a pretty blatant lie was a bit unsettling. Frightening, even, because if he wasn't just zoned out or shocked then he was categorically dismissing her as a threat, which of course fell in line precisely with her own self-appraisal and threatened to light a very ugly fire in her chest. A sort of emotion she really really shouldn't be feeling at the prospect of not shooting someone or being taken for someone who was threatening to.
"Am I thinking about this too much?" she blurted, voice rising to clarity above the fog of headache-addled musing. "Are you ok?"
Not even armed she thought again, curling a finger around the barrel of the rifle so massive it stretched from the floor up over her head. Hung from it like a tent pole. Frowned a little, and rubbed her other hand over her face. The cogs churned through a dangerous amount of fuzz. Was he... was he really just going to let her have that?
"I don't even know where the safety is on this."
It was unsteady ground. She'd planned on stepping back, steadying herself against her backup claim. Oh, I mean not dangerous to you. The fact that he hadn't taken her to task for what was really a pretty blatant lie was a bit unsettling. Frightening, even, because if he wasn't just zoned out or shocked then he was categorically dismissing her as a threat, which of course fell in line precisely with her own self-appraisal and threatened to light a very ugly fire in her chest. A sort of emotion she really really shouldn't be feeling at the prospect of not shooting someone or being taken for someone who was threatening to.
"Am I thinking about this too much?" she blurted, voice rising to clarity above the fog of headache-addled musing. "Are you ok?"
Was he okay? The answer to that question was pretty obvious. He hadn't been “okay” since he got here, and things just seemed to be getting worse and worse.
Soren brought his hands to his face, rubbing his eyes as his vision slowly began to adjust to the dimness of the environment. The pounding in his chest had subsided, mostly, and the lack of dizziness allowed him to more carefully take stock of his situation.
He was just about to give a rather lame answer to the still anonymous girl's question when the full weight of her words finally hit him.
She mentioned a safety.
That meant she had a gun.
Soren swallowed as his eyes searched through the dark, finally landing on the rather large object propped up against the wall beside his conversation partner. That definitely wasn't good.
He was in danger again. Or was he? On one hand, having a gun didn't automatically make someone dangerous. Paris had a gun, after all. On the other hand, she had lied to him about having the being armed. That didn't exactly speak towards good intentions.
Ultimately, cowardice won out yet again. Soren pushed unsteadily to his feet, his joints stiff from the awkward position he had been sitting in. Unable to restrain himself from pointing out the obvious, he raised a finger in the general direction of the object leaning against the wall. After a moment of standing like his, he spoke, his voice trembling with more than a hint of accusation.
“You said you weren't armed.”
Soren brought his hands to his face, rubbing his eyes as his vision slowly began to adjust to the dimness of the environment. The pounding in his chest had subsided, mostly, and the lack of dizziness allowed him to more carefully take stock of his situation.
He was just about to give a rather lame answer to the still anonymous girl's question when the full weight of her words finally hit him.
She mentioned a safety.
That meant she had a gun.
Soren swallowed as his eyes searched through the dark, finally landing on the rather large object propped up against the wall beside his conversation partner. That definitely wasn't good.
He was in danger again. Or was he? On one hand, having a gun didn't automatically make someone dangerous. Paris had a gun, after all. On the other hand, she had lied to him about having the being armed. That didn't exactly speak towards good intentions.
Ultimately, cowardice won out yet again. Soren pushed unsteadily to his feet, his joints stiff from the awkward position he had been sitting in. Unable to restrain himself from pointing out the obvious, he raised a finger in the general direction of the object leaning against the wall. After a moment of standing like his, he spoke, his voice trembling with more than a hint of accusation.
“You said you weren't armed.”
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Rattlesnake
- Posts: 190
- Joined: Wed Aug 08, 2018 10:23 pm
Well, so much for that.
The hurt tone, the accusing stance—the details were lost in the silhouette but she knew that finger was pointed directly at her—she probably deserved it for leading with such a whopper, but it all cut far deeper than she'd expected. She pushed herself up, hands gripping the barrel of the gun like a misshapen oar. Her heels grumbled at bearing her weight again and the backs of her knees stretched out. Maybe it wasn't the best reconciliatory move, but it wasn't something she was going to take sitting down.
Standing fully erect, the tip of the gun's barrel reached all the way up to her waist. She felt around for something tangible. Maybe with a bit of weight to it. And there was something filtering through. If he was so mad about the revelation that she did, in fact, have something that looked like it could take out a tank, then he wasn't looking for something to take by any means she tried not to imagine. She could lean on that.
By reflex her mouth started to form around something that would probably just dig the hole deeper. Did it really matter how closely her words reflected reality if reality reflected a knife-edge balance of homicidal crazy? But at the same time, it didn't do to get into the groove of twisting things just out of habit. The easiest lie, she decided, was the truth.
"Sorry," she said. Well, mostly the truth. "I just thought, if I was running into someone who really wanted what I had, I don't really want to announce it? I don't...think I could stop them." She sighed. "But you're right, I can't just slip this into my back pocket. So, yeah. I don't know."
"I guess I'm not ok either," she grumbled.
The hurt tone, the accusing stance—the details were lost in the silhouette but she knew that finger was pointed directly at her—she probably deserved it for leading with such a whopper, but it all cut far deeper than she'd expected. She pushed herself up, hands gripping the barrel of the gun like a misshapen oar. Her heels grumbled at bearing her weight again and the backs of her knees stretched out. Maybe it wasn't the best reconciliatory move, but it wasn't something she was going to take sitting down.
Standing fully erect, the tip of the gun's barrel reached all the way up to her waist. She felt around for something tangible. Maybe with a bit of weight to it. And there was something filtering through. If he was so mad about the revelation that she did, in fact, have something that looked like it could take out a tank, then he wasn't looking for something to take by any means she tried not to imagine. She could lean on that.
By reflex her mouth started to form around something that would probably just dig the hole deeper. Did it really matter how closely her words reflected reality if reality reflected a knife-edge balance of homicidal crazy? But at the same time, it didn't do to get into the groove of twisting things just out of habit. The easiest lie, she decided, was the truth.
"Sorry," she said. Well, mostly the truth. "I just thought, if I was running into someone who really wanted what I had, I don't really want to announce it? I don't...think I could stop them." She sighed. "But you're right, I can't just slip this into my back pocket. So, yeah. I don't know."
"I guess I'm not ok either," she grumbled.
Soren let out a tired sigh. He’d definitely made his share of bad decisions here. And, considering what happened back at the tar pits, her fear seemed more than justified. This island was a messed up place.
“Yeah, I get it. I kinda...er… well, I just got robbed this morning, so I know how you feel. Just… no more lies, okay?”
He pursed his lips as he recalled the memory of that sword poking against his ribs. It wasn’t something he was keen on repeating, and thankfully it didn’t seem like this girl was going to take the same path as Jason. After all, if she wanted to kill him, she had ample opportunity to do it already. A fact that Soren had already considered several times before, but could really do with reminding.
In any case, the surroundings weren’t doing much to help the overall mood. If one didn’t want to hide things, the darkness of that tunnel was the last place you wanted to be. This whole situation was still leaving him a little uneasy, and getting out of here was looking like a better idea with every passing moment.
He gestured over to the tunnel entrance, speaking in the same quiet. exhausted voice as earlier.
“Wanna head outside? This place is kinda creepy.”
“Yeah, I get it. I kinda...er… well, I just got robbed this morning, so I know how you feel. Just… no more lies, okay?”
He pursed his lips as he recalled the memory of that sword poking against his ribs. It wasn’t something he was keen on repeating, and thankfully it didn’t seem like this girl was going to take the same path as Jason. After all, if she wanted to kill him, she had ample opportunity to do it already. A fact that Soren had already considered several times before, but could really do with reminding.
In any case, the surroundings weren’t doing much to help the overall mood. If one didn’t want to hide things, the darkness of that tunnel was the last place you wanted to be. This whole situation was still leaving him a little uneasy, and getting out of here was looking like a better idea with every passing moment.
He gestured over to the tunnel entrance, speaking in the same quiet. exhausted voice as earlier.
“Wanna head outside? This place is kinda creepy.”
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Rattlesnake
- Posts: 190
- Joined: Wed Aug 08, 2018 10:23 pm
"Alright," she lied. "Honesty from here on out."
It was with a personal little twinge of horror that laid her statement smoothly over what little hung in the air with the offer that didn't really feel much like an offer. A minute ago, maybe a minute in the future, the union was borderline unthinkable. Small as it was, the papercut of betrayal would fester in the open air here. They lacked the time and proper care necessary to see it vanish into a hairthin stroke of red and then vanish entirely.
But she hadn't made a decision, and she felt that perhaps he hadn't really either. She was scared and alone. He was scared and alone. It didn't make sense not to at least spend some time alone together to raise the barrier of propriety above any funny ideas anyone else might get. From there, they'd see.
She walked forward until the illumination from the cave's mouth began to stab at her eyes. It was frightening how quickly the light of day could feel alien to her sensibilities. She turned and tried so smile and tried to smile and managed only to pull the corners of her mouth up into a curve.
"Let's go, then." she said and heaved the rifle up onto her shoulder.
((Tessa Blackridge continued elsewhere))
It was with a personal little twinge of horror that laid her statement smoothly over what little hung in the air with the offer that didn't really feel much like an offer. A minute ago, maybe a minute in the future, the union was borderline unthinkable. Small as it was, the papercut of betrayal would fester in the open air here. They lacked the time and proper care necessary to see it vanish into a hairthin stroke of red and then vanish entirely.
But she hadn't made a decision, and she felt that perhaps he hadn't really either. She was scared and alone. He was scared and alone. It didn't make sense not to at least spend some time alone together to raise the barrier of propriety above any funny ideas anyone else might get. From there, they'd see.
She walked forward until the illumination from the cave's mouth began to stab at her eyes. It was frightening how quickly the light of day could feel alien to her sensibilities. She turned and tried so smile and tried to smile and managed only to pull the corners of her mouth up into a curve.
"Let's go, then." she said and heaved the rifle up onto her shoulder.
((Tessa Blackridge continued elsewhere))
Soren nodded, standing still for a moment as he watched the girl walk out into the light, the waning daylight illuminating her body, as well as the weapon that she had tried to hide from him. He pursed his lips as his eyes travelled over the reminder of her attempted deception.
On some level, he knew that this partnership didn't have much of a chance of ending well. He knew that promises like they had made were easy to make, but difficult to keep.
Regardless, he couldn't bring himself to leave. No matter what problems would arise from this, the hard truth was.. it was better than being alone. Being alone meant being trapped with the fear and guilt that was swirling around in his head like an angry maelstrom. Going back to that place was not very high on Soren's list of desires, he could tell that much.
Without much hesitation, he followed carefully behind Tessa, temporarily blinded as his eyes began adjusting to the light of day yet again.
((Soren Rosendahl continued in That Sound is Your Soul Stirring))
On some level, he knew that this partnership didn't have much of a chance of ending well. He knew that promises like they had made were easy to make, but difficult to keep.
Regardless, he couldn't bring himself to leave. No matter what problems would arise from this, the hard truth was.. it was better than being alone. Being alone meant being trapped with the fear and guilt that was swirling around in his head like an angry maelstrom. Going back to that place was not very high on Soren's list of desires, he could tell that much.
Without much hesitation, he followed carefully behind Tessa, temporarily blinded as his eyes began adjusting to the light of day yet again.
((Soren Rosendahl continued in That Sound is Your Soul Stirring))