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nomans_land2023-05-02 05:02 am
nml_mods) wrote in nomans_land2023-05-02 05:02 am
Entry tags:
On The First Day
It had been months.
Months of terror, of families ripped apart, refugees racing against the Ark in the sky, against the Plants that had once been their only source of survival on the world and had now been turned against them, raining lightning and death down on them like the hand of a vengeful God. Humanity pushed to the brink, fleeing their homes and communities, waves of refugees fleeing across the sands as more and more towns and cities fell to the reign of destruction that had been biting at their heels every step of the way.
And then, as the last descendants of the survivors of the Big Fall clustered in the city of Octovern, spiilling out into the streets, every available, livable space filled to capacity and beyond, what felt like the final days of humanity began. The sounds of artillery fire filled the air, the sight of the Ark and its grotesque ruler loomed overhead, and in the distant sky high above, the previously-inconceivable reinforcement ships from Earth took up orbit around No Man's Land. Throughout the night, explosions lit up the sky, thundering with deafening reports through the air, and yet the civilians below had settled into a still, terrified, anticipatory silence. They couldn't see, from their perspective, the figures atop the ruins of the Earth's space destroyers that had already fallen to the ground, locked in battle for the future of the people far below. But the sight of Millions Knives high above, terrifying and grotesque with the power of the Plants he had absorbed, was omnipresent, a never-ending threat, the harbinger of doom, biding his time until he could make good on his promise to wipe every last one of them off the face of existence.
And then something had changed.
Electrical currents rippled through the air above the downed ship, carrying screams on the wind. To the people below, Millions Knives' massive form had shifted, writhing, bellowing with unholy rage and pain and despair. And then it begun to unmake itself, shredding, crumbling, tearing itself apart at the seams and floating to the ground in tiny, shining, white particles. Tiny, white feathers drifted on the wind, closer and closer before, one by one, they began to settle to the roofs of the buildings, to the tops of cars and to the streets, and to the heads and faces of the humans staring up from below.
The instant that contact was made between feather and skin, a connection was made; between Human and Plant, between each person standing side by side, minds thrown open in bursts of light and expanding consciousness, and through the doors sprang multitudes of memories spanning hundreds of years. Suffering, laughter, pain, sorrow, joy, enslavement, death, pride, love. The Plants had made the connection to their creators - their keepers - that they had been silently pleading for since their first containment, and with it every man, woman, and child on the surface of the world began to see and feel and hear their stories and their cries for help. They did not want this war, they did not want this destruction. They had seen the promises of vengeance and a paradise for their kind atop the bones of humanity offered by Millions Knives and they had felt the hopes and dreams carried by Vash the Stampede of a kinder, more loving world, and they had made their choice.
Let there be love and peace in this world.
In the chaos that followed, as the bodies of the Plants began tumbling to the ground in a writhing mass and the screams of shock and confusion began to rise from the sea of humanity below, something rippled in the air, a last gasp of those silent voices before the connection was lost.
This was...different. New. As if reality had taken the distraction caused by the calamity below to shift itself sharply to the left, and then snapped. It started at the core of the mass of angelic bodies as men and women began to rush to their aid, a shockwave in the fabric of creation that rumbled silently in the atoms of the world and ricocheted outward, along the ground, through the air, until it had enveloped the entire planet. Time froze for an instant, and to the eyes of all who had the capacity for sight, that leftward shift became manifest, the world doubling on itself as the ground shook beneath their feet.
Wails of confusion and fear rose into the night sky, and for a brief moment, it felt as if the world were about to unmake itself on the molecular level. But then, just as suddenly as it had come, the distortion snapped back into place with a loud, ear-splitting CRACK, and in the stunned silence that followed, only one thing could be certain; things were not the same as they had been mere moments ago, as if everything and yet nothing at all had changed, all at once.
The world of No Man's Land was as it should be, but all across the surface of the planet, pockets of reality had split open, sending the inhabitants of mirrored existences tumbling through wide, unseen rifts. People and places outside of time and space found themselves staggering to their feet in a world that was both foreign and familiar at the same time, found themselves face to face with their own reflection made flesh, tossed about by the pleas of a race reaching across the fabric of creation for aid in putting a stop to a war that had been fought time and time again, across reality after reality, without fail.
Thus began the new chapter in the history of No Man's Land.
[Wherever your character was, whatever they were doing, when the rifts in reality opened, they will have found themselves rocked by a massive earthquake that lastes a few short seconds before settling with a loud crack, like thunder. While no damage will be left in its wake, the characters themselves will realize that though the planet appears to be the same, it will quickly become evident that they are in an alternate reality of the place they call home. Are they standing in the rubble of a once-destroyed city now remade whole? Is the bar they had been taking refuge in suddenly gone, leaving them tumbling to the sand with nothing but their drink in their hand? And what of the friends that had been standing by their side seconds before? This is where your stories begin.]
Months of terror, of families ripped apart, refugees racing against the Ark in the sky, against the Plants that had once been their only source of survival on the world and had now been turned against them, raining lightning and death down on them like the hand of a vengeful God. Humanity pushed to the brink, fleeing their homes and communities, waves of refugees fleeing across the sands as more and more towns and cities fell to the reign of destruction that had been biting at their heels every step of the way.
And then, as the last descendants of the survivors of the Big Fall clustered in the city of Octovern, spiilling out into the streets, every available, livable space filled to capacity and beyond, what felt like the final days of humanity began. The sounds of artillery fire filled the air, the sight of the Ark and its grotesque ruler loomed overhead, and in the distant sky high above, the previously-inconceivable reinforcement ships from Earth took up orbit around No Man's Land. Throughout the night, explosions lit up the sky, thundering with deafening reports through the air, and yet the civilians below had settled into a still, terrified, anticipatory silence. They couldn't see, from their perspective, the figures atop the ruins of the Earth's space destroyers that had already fallen to the ground, locked in battle for the future of the people far below. But the sight of Millions Knives high above, terrifying and grotesque with the power of the Plants he had absorbed, was omnipresent, a never-ending threat, the harbinger of doom, biding his time until he could make good on his promise to wipe every last one of them off the face of existence.
And then something had changed.
Electrical currents rippled through the air above the downed ship, carrying screams on the wind. To the people below, Millions Knives' massive form had shifted, writhing, bellowing with unholy rage and pain and despair. And then it begun to unmake itself, shredding, crumbling, tearing itself apart at the seams and floating to the ground in tiny, shining, white particles. Tiny, white feathers drifted on the wind, closer and closer before, one by one, they began to settle to the roofs of the buildings, to the tops of cars and to the streets, and to the heads and faces of the humans staring up from below.
The instant that contact was made between feather and skin, a connection was made; between Human and Plant, between each person standing side by side, minds thrown open in bursts of light and expanding consciousness, and through the doors sprang multitudes of memories spanning hundreds of years. Suffering, laughter, pain, sorrow, joy, enslavement, death, pride, love. The Plants had made the connection to their creators - their keepers - that they had been silently pleading for since their first containment, and with it every man, woman, and child on the surface of the world began to see and feel and hear their stories and their cries for help. They did not want this war, they did not want this destruction. They had seen the promises of vengeance and a paradise for their kind atop the bones of humanity offered by Millions Knives and they had felt the hopes and dreams carried by Vash the Stampede of a kinder, more loving world, and they had made their choice.
Of course, but...what would he do at a time like this?
I wonder if he'll laugh again
I wonder if he'll follow his ideals again.
I see. You all know him as well. That young man with a gentle smile.
Little Red Brother.
Let there be love and peace in this world.
In the chaos that followed, as the bodies of the Plants began tumbling to the ground in a writhing mass and the screams of shock and confusion began to rise from the sea of humanity below, something rippled in the air, a last gasp of those silent voices before the connection was lost.
Help Us. Help him. Please.
This was...different. New. As if reality had taken the distraction caused by the calamity below to shift itself sharply to the left, and then snapped. It started at the core of the mass of angelic bodies as men and women began to rush to their aid, a shockwave in the fabric of creation that rumbled silently in the atoms of the world and ricocheted outward, along the ground, through the air, until it had enveloped the entire planet. Time froze for an instant, and to the eyes of all who had the capacity for sight, that leftward shift became manifest, the world doubling on itself as the ground shook beneath their feet.
Wails of confusion and fear rose into the night sky, and for a brief moment, it felt as if the world were about to unmake itself on the molecular level. But then, just as suddenly as it had come, the distortion snapped back into place with a loud, ear-splitting CRACK, and in the stunned silence that followed, only one thing could be certain; things were not the same as they had been mere moments ago, as if everything and yet nothing at all had changed, all at once.
The world of No Man's Land was as it should be, but all across the surface of the planet, pockets of reality had split open, sending the inhabitants of mirrored existences tumbling through wide, unseen rifts. People and places outside of time and space found themselves staggering to their feet in a world that was both foreign and familiar at the same time, found themselves face to face with their own reflection made flesh, tossed about by the pleas of a race reaching across the fabric of creation for aid in putting a stop to a war that had been fought time and time again, across reality after reality, without fail.
[Wherever your character was, whatever they were doing, when the rifts in reality opened, they will have found themselves rocked by a massive earthquake that lastes a few short seconds before settling with a loud crack, like thunder. While no damage will be left in its wake, the characters themselves will realize that though the planet appears to be the same, it will quickly become evident that they are in an alternate reality of the place they call home. Are they standing in the rubble of a once-destroyed city now remade whole? Is the bar they had been taking refuge in suddenly gone, leaving them tumbling to the sand with nothing but their drink in their hand? And what of the friends that had been standing by their side seconds before? This is where your stories begin.]
no subject
Vash thinks he's going to be sick, even before the poor monster sends out a wave of fear and fury that's finally enough to send him to his knees, gasping through his tears. ]
Tessla! You have a name, your name is Tessla! You're like me!
[ He'd thought that report -- that he read every page of -- was bad enough, but this? Bleeding, feathered, her eyes not even in her face anymore! What did they do to her?! ]
I'm your brother! I'm Vash, I'm your brother, I'm sorry!
no subject
A brother. Does it remember a brother? Does it remember anything other than pain and anger?
It curls around itself again, feathers rustling all around them both before finally, finally a face appears, eye-wing curving round it like a blindfold to make the false image of it still being in one piece. A lot of features are twisted with feathers, but it's still her face. What they had left of it. ]
I KNOW A Ț̴͇͙͔̼̖͈͂̇̂E͖̺̭̮̍̍̍̊͆͜S͍̩͉̘̅͡S̲̩̠͚ͦͬ̏̃L̴̟̬̮͙̦̞̏Ā̸ͦ̍̊̾͂.
no subject
I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I... [ He can't seem to catch his breath. ] I know... I know what they did to you, I'm sorry. [ His small fists punch the sand, grief and disgust and anger warring for control. ] They shouldn't have done that!
no subject
Rage and fear blooms inside it again, and it reaches out twisted feathers to start covering up Vash as well. ]
THEY C̶̟̟ͤU͎͔̝̣͔͎͑̑ͦͅT̾̓̍͋͏̥̰̣̰ ME
CUT Ư̺͚͎̇ͭͨ͋S̼͕̗͖̓̊
I WAS STILL ALIVE
THEY COULDN'T H̊͑̎ͬ̄͏̯Ĕ̯̂ͯͫ̓͝A̪̯̜̖͠R̞̙͚̥̙͓͗̅̀ͥ̚ ME
SCREAMING SCREAMING S͕͍̻̠̼͚̠Ç͖̍͒͗͆̍̂ͯṘ̞̺͆ͨͩE̴̟AM̢͖̥̜̪̫̊̍ͦ͗͋͆I͓̲̥̚͢N̶̦̬̎G̷̝͓̹͖̭ͩ̓
[ The voice - voices - seems to come from all over, wings shaking with anger. ]
THEY ALL NEED TO D̢̯͚̠I̶̙͉̭̫̥͙̅͂E͔̟͓̥̜̦̻ͬ́͌͂͐.
no subject
No! [ Still kneeling in the sand, Vash looks up at those very blue eyes and shakes his head hard. ] Stop them, we'll stop them from ever hurting anyone again, I'll help you! But we don't have to kill them!
[ He knows what Rem did was awful, but she's changed! He's here, alive, as proof that she's changed! Please don't try to kill his mom? ]
Killing them won't change anything!
no subject
She meets his gaze, and there's so much pain and anger in her eyes, pupils nothing but slits and teeth bared on her face further behind them. ]
THEY WILL HURT Ý̟̩͍̹̻̉̎O̷̠ͯ̿͆ͪU̮̳͚̭̯̜̤͛̽͐ͨͭ͛͘ ̲̠̮̇T͍̜̞̜̪̺̰ͭͣ͋͂̋͆̈́͠ÒͭO̯͎̠͎ͮ̂̾̔̏̔͑.
PUT POISON IN YOU
̷͇̙̖̻̱̺̭͑T̬͐ͪ͊̉̀ͭ̚͞A̧̜͎͉̠͛̂͂͐L̷̟̞͎̝̯̆̈́K̤̂ͭͯ LIKE YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT THEY'RE Sͪ̅A͖̘̬̫͙̰͆͑̈́ͅY͕̋̄́I̞ͭ͊̆͑ͥ̐͆N̜̣̙G̸̑͂͛̇̾ͬ
AND THEN
CUT C͙̥̳ͫͪ͛̓ͪͯ̀Ú̹̗̣̦̽̀̽T͔ͦ̅̆ CUT!
[ Everything will change if everything was dead. All humans, all ships, all plants. If they're gone, nothing will hurt anymore. Maybe they would finally let her heal. ]
YOU DON'T KNOW YET
I'LL S̵͕̙̯̦͚̿̈̉̐A͖̥̞̳͈̩͑͒ͨͯV̮̩̣̱̠̩̰E̩̜̾̍ͅ YOU!
no subject
The feathers pull him in, and something inside him slips and unlocks as he reaches up to touch them. He stares, wide-eyed, at the tufts of soft down that erupt painlessly from beneath the skin of his arm, tiny baby feathers that reach out for her larger ones. Her voice is so much louder now, loud enough that he wants to put his hands over his ears, but instead he grits his teeth and reaches up even further. He's not sure what he can do for her, but when he's hurt, being held makes him feel better. She's... she's all in pieces, but he has to try. ]
Let me help you, please. How can I help you?
no subject
He's going to be cut apart, pulled apart just like her. A little brother, a little thing she can protect.
...but he asks how to help her, and she doesn't know. The others are quiet now, pushed back and placated after bites and hisses and fighting, and it's just them. ]
You ċ̛͈̫͕̓ḁ̬ṇ̦̯̤̖́̂ͩͮ'̪̍͗̑͗͗͐t̫̬̤̫͔̆ͦͨ̉̓̚͡ help me. [ Softer now, just a girl. ] The pain never ends. I'm torn apart and I can't heal.
no subject
Then... then we put you back together. [ It shouldn't be possible, he knows that, but if she's still alive like this? Then maybe she could be reassembled! Right? ] I can get bandages, and my brother, he's smarter than me, we can help you, we can!
[ His feathers are small, yes, just a baby's soft fluff, but the longer they talk the more they stretch out, fledging into tiny, but more fully formed, feathers. And it feels like they could be more, like there's still something big inside him. Could he have feathers as big and powerful as hers? Is that what he's feeling? ]
We won't let anyone hurt you, ever again, I promise!
no subject
[ Not a lot was left to hold that piece to her, and it was easier to move after they had ripped away. It had hurt so, so bad, but that wasn't new. It was even easier when she was the one doing the hurting. Her choices.
A hand peeks out from the feathers and she grasps Vash's, linking their fingers together - letting his growing feathers meet with her own. ]
People will always hurt us. Y̫̣o̮̮̺̜͉̎ͮ̓ͅṳ̯͌̃ͫ̄̀̊ͨ.̰̦͇̭̇ They need to go away.
J̺̱͓͕ͬ̿͝Ō̰ͥI̪͍͚̲̙̘̣̐̃̿̿̅̚N̊̽̈ ͙ͧ́ͤ̓̇̂Ṳ̉̎ͪS̵̖̦̭͐̑̃̀
No! Don't s̯̪̅c̖̬̻͕a̧̰̗̓r͉̩̞͙̊̎ͫ̏ͫ́ę͉̖͙̻ͤ̈͋̑ͅ him!
[ The young girl smacks a wing into another wing, fighting with herself. ]
no subject
Tessla... who is us? [ This time he's certain what he's seeing -- she really is fighting against her own wings. But why? ] Who's that other voice?
no subject
The sisters. They s̞̟̥̼̀̀̒̾͂͆̚ǎ̴͈̤̳̗̲̖̇ͫ̎́̐̚v̧͕̪̲̟̟͈͒̽ͮͪ͛́ė̒̊̀d͕̲̼̤̺͞ me.
[ Several other plants, melded together into protective hull around the pieces of their little sister. ]
They're angry, too.
no subject
Other plants? [ He's seen other plants before, of course, and even talked to them... if saying hello to a dozing being that speaks like a sleepwalker counts as talking. He's never seen one outside their bulbs before! Is this really what they look like? They're beautiful! ] Hey! Then you can help me too! Stop fighting and let's get all of her and put her back together!
no subject
They only know anger. P͒̀ͮ͐ͣr͉̠ͮo̰͎̥̭̤̗̗͌̓̂͆͐̏t͈͔̘̪ͧ̀̀̐͑́e̩̰̖̼c̜͉͕͉̙̥ͣ̈͂̌͘t͈̫͉͕̖͍̥̀ͭͬ͌̒͢i̝͇̼̣͙̰̗ͯ̐ͧ̀̚n̶̦̝͖̘̭̲̩̉̓͛͋̂g͙̾ͮ̾̃͊͌̚. Soothing.
[ Tessla explains, as more wings close around them, cradling them both in their gentle touch. Big sisters holding their younger siblings. ]
They already hold me t̘̻̋ͤ̊ͬ͆̚o̖̰͔̼̠͝g̡̬͖̳͗ë̦̟̰͉̫̟̇͡t̵͍͍̲̰̦̞͈͂̓h͎̯̥̰̻͙ͭé̼̟̦̻̞r̳̀͂ as much as they can.
[ The sisters do not care about anything other than keeping her safe and destroying everything around her to make that happen, and right now their wills collide a bit. ]
no subject
Thank you! [ For looking after her. For trying to defend her, even he doesn't agree with the way they're doing it. For holding her together. He knows only too well that it's nothing but chance, fate, good luck, whatever you want to call it, that it was Tessla in that lab and not him, or Knives. If somebody did this to Knives, Vash thinks he might want to kill them too. He understands. ] Thank you for helping her! But she's hurting!
[ She should be dead, he thinks, tracking from her eyes to the eyeless face behind. She shouldn't be alive. How much does it take to kill one of their kind, if this wasn't enough? How much more could she possibly endure?
He turns his feathery face back up to the gallery of wings above his head. ]
I can put her back together... I think. But I need your help! Will you help us?
no subject
It's a lot friendlier than a glass tube of pain, and a lot more deadly.
Tessla smiles - or at least she tries, but her mouth is a horror and she hides it even from herself under more wings. ]
They can carry me. Us. For the pieces. But it hurts so much to move, V̻͖̩̊̏͑̚͠ͅa̠̳͂̍s̴̈̓ḩ̝͈̳̀̏͒̍̒̄.
[ She says, then coughs wetly. It's more than she's spoken in a long time. The screaming is different, then it isn't just her voice.
The cocoon's consciousness, the one in symbiosis with her own, gently push the pieces of her into the middle by Vash, as if they're offering him a gory puzzle. At least that seems like an answer. A prayer. ]
SAVE H̥ͪ̂͛͆͜E̫͒͒̽ͦ̈͘Ṟ̔̉
L̖̝̭̟̮̩ͤ̌ͮͮ̑Ì̴̥̲͙̭͎̎ͮͥT̷͆̔ͫ́̑̍T͇͚̠͖L̠ͮͣ̈̽̃E͑ͨ ̜̳̤̝͖͂͗͑̉̓B͙̩͈̘͓̬̜̽ͦR̩̠̹͛̈́ͤ̽̾ͩ͐Ŏ̴̽̋T̴͈̼͔͚̫̟ͦ̐ͣ̄ͣ̾̚H̷͓̠̄͗E̫͇̙͙̗̫͆̏̃̒̇̏̂R̡̽͌̿̆̚
no subject
Okay. Okay. Step one: make her comfortable, and that means no more moving. ]
Then you don't move, okay? You stay right here. [ He's still holding her hand – he has no plans to let go until he has to – so with his other hand he waves at the nearest wings. ] She needs somewhere to lay down! Somewhere not on the sand!
[ And then step two will be to go get her legs, won't it? He'll have to do that, so she doesn't have to be moved any more. ...He can do this. He can do this. ]
And... and I'll need things! Water, bandages. Pain killers! [ Really, he needs to take her back up to the ship, but that's impossible for so many reasons. ] Have you seen any towns? Anywhere with people? I can go and get what she needs, just tell me where to go!
no subject
D̗̟͌ͭ̂̃͐R̹̥̟̭͖̼ͮ̏͋͂U͎̣͖̰̍G̡͎̭̩ͪ̏̒̿ͥS͍̞̼ͮ̔ͪ̔ͬͫͪ AND BANDAGES
OVER AND OVER
NO M͇̲̫̞͙͕̞̓ͨ͆̇ͤO͏̫̩̝̫̯̘ͅR̙̣̪͉͇͕̾͊ͬͬE̯̪ͯͮͭͪ̋ͨ
HURTS HURTS H̺̪͂ͫͦ͗̄U͈̜̼̞͆̋́ͦ̊͘R̄ͮ҉͎͎͚̰̬̳T͍̤͎͓S͚̬͉̄ͅ
I... I don't know. What is a t́ͧ͐̌҉̱̻͓̦͓͓o̩̹ͮw̻̻͖̭͔̰͝n̗̻ͣͫ̂͒͑͌̌? People... people will hurt me!
[ She sounds more and more scared, and then there's another shriek and roar from all over, wings beating all around Vash like he's in the middle of a flock of angry swans. ] No, no, please, no more, please.
no subject
No! No no no, not like that! I wouldn't do that! I meant things to make her not hurt!
[ The plants sound so angry at him now, and Tessla sounds so scared, and he's really just making things worse, isn't he? The wings descend on him, flapping at him and in the chaos he loses his grip on her hand, dropping down to his knees on the sand and covering his head. ]
I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I'm trying to help, I'm sorry!
no subject
[ Tessla pleads softly, voice trembling with fear. It makes the wings slowly calm down again, but they keep her more hidden inside the cocoon. Still, she manages to stick her hand out again, pleading to hold his. ]
No people, Vash. No drugs. Please. I'm s̝͈̪͞ͅc̢͎̖͉̟̜ͧͪa͈͖͙̓̾͝r͓͚̣͉̹̠̰̋ͦͥͦeͬ͑ͭͩ͋ͭ̂d̛͈͚̔̌͆ͪͤ. Humans will hurt me.
[ Everything around her so far has been dead and empty, strange structures and long-gone bodies, as well as the endless sand. It was hot and painful but strangely safe, to be alone among the dunes. ]
I'm... I'm very tired.
no subject
I'll go! You don't ever have to see humans again, I promise, I'll go.
[ Another promise. He's making so many promises and doesn't know how in the world he's going to keep any of them. ]
I just need medicines to make you not hurt. I don't want you to hurt.
[ His voice cracks at the end there, just too overwhelmed by this whole situation. ]
I'm sorry.
no subject
...but medicine is terrifying. All the needles and solutions and things that made her veins burn and things grow inside her. It's so frightening, and it is so hard to trust, even when it's someone just like her. ]
I'm so s̝͈̪͞ͅc̢͎̖͉̟̜ͧͪa͈͖͙̓̾͝r͓͚̣͉̹̠̰̋ͦͥͦeͬ͑ͭͩ͋ͭ̂d̛͈͚̔̌͆ͪͤ, Vash. I can't stop it sometimes. I'm sorry.
no subject
I know. I know, I'd be scared too, but they won't anyone hurt you, right? [ He smiles, a little shakily, up at the wings hovering above them, surrounding them. Guarding them. ] Even if it's me, and that's good. It's good to have somebody to protect you.
[ His little feathers wave cheerfully, twining around her arm. If he was bigger, he could maybe do more, but what can he do? He's just a kid, and there's nothing around but sand, and rocks, and sky. There's nothing he can do for her. ]
no subject
[ She agrees, and somewhere under it all she gives a tired, pained smile. Yeah, the sisters won't let anyone hurt her. Even if that means destroying everything in their path.
Humans, wams, plants. Anything.
Her eye-wing looks at the little waving feathers and some of her own gently waves back, a few curving around his like a mimic of their hand-holding. Just two kids, out in the middle of nowhere. ]
I think... I think you're s̭̺̗̃åͯͦ̃f̟̝̦̬ͬ̕e͔ͫ̽.
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His feathers stretch out more, a baby chick version of the canopy overhead, moving on their own to cover her and keep her from any more harm. ]
Do you sleep? [ As soon as he says it, he realizes it's a silly question -- everyone sleeps! ] You should stay here and rest. I'll go find help. [ He gives her hand a squeeze. ] Not people, I promise. Just stuff. Water and... and stuff. It'll be okay.
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