He has to look. There's no getting around it. No sense putting it off. The space is stable enough, just small; it will be stable even if he's trapped in here. It doesn't matter what he feels. That isn't helpful right now. He doesn't need it. What matters is what's actually here around him. What matters is figuring that out. Then he'll know how to deal with it. If he can deal with it.
Even if all this wasn't built as sturdy as everything else down here, knocking a wall down wouldn't be a good option. He doesn't know the layout of the place. Take out the wrong wall, and-
Doesn't matter. He slows his breathing down, even if there's no one close enough to hear it. Breaths slow, deliberate, filling up his chest.
He rolls onto his good leg again. That takes his horns far enough from the rock above that he could almost pretend there's real space, if he wasn't so aware of it, heavy and waiting above him there. He moves one hand on the ground. Crawls forward, does it again. One more time.
After a few more breaths, he realises he hasn't actually answered. Got to do that.
"Maybe." Probably lying would have been better. Better not to give Dorian space to worry about him. He'd have to make it convincing, if he did. Reaching for the words, the manner, that usually comes so easy is like wading through mud.
'Maybe' it is.
"Might not have time for me to look around." Try for something. Not a lie, just a hope, a goal. The tone isn't there, still trying to be flat but without the sharp edge to it it's more obvious what's underneath, a tone that's balanced on the bare edge of something else. "Go ahead. I'll just catch up."
no subject
He has to look. There's no getting around it. No sense putting it off. The space is stable enough, just small; it will be stable even if he's trapped in here. It doesn't matter what he feels. That isn't helpful right now. He doesn't need it. What matters is what's actually here around him. What matters is figuring that out. Then he'll know how to deal with it. If he can deal with it.
Even if all this wasn't built as sturdy as everything else down here, knocking a wall down wouldn't be a good option. He doesn't know the layout of the place. Take out the wrong wall, and-
Doesn't matter. He slows his breathing down, even if there's no one close enough to hear it. Breaths slow, deliberate, filling up his chest.
He rolls onto his good leg again. That takes his horns far enough from the rock above that he could almost pretend there's real space, if he wasn't so aware of it, heavy and waiting above him there. He moves one hand on the ground. Crawls forward, does it again. One more time.
After a few more breaths, he realises he hasn't actually answered. Got to do that.
"Maybe." Probably lying would have been better. Better not to give Dorian space to worry about him. He'd have to make it convincing, if he did. Reaching for the words, the manner, that usually comes so easy is like wading through mud.
'Maybe' it is.
"Might not have time for me to look around." Try for something. Not a lie, just a hope, a goal. The tone isn't there, still trying to be flat but without the sharp edge to it it's more obvious what's underneath, a tone that's balanced on the bare edge of something else. "Go ahead. I'll just catch up."