Rock washed in green light; a long, flat piece of what probably used to be the ceiling, resting on the rubble behind him, tilting upward. The way ahead of him, open.
Open.
The Bull lets out a slow breath. Seeing that should let out some of that tension strung through every inch of him. Maybe it does. The space around him has definition, now. The one eye he has left has something to take in now, something to remind it it's still whole. That's probably good. That's good.
He crawls forward a little more, tries to look up to see if the rubble above him opens up anywhere - not into open air or anything, or there would be more light, but but into something higher - and his horns thunk against the rock above.
He holds himself still. He breathes. He starts moving forward again. His leg is going to start hurting, probably sooner rather than later. For now it drags the green ground under him.
Dorian. Focus on that, instead of this. On what still needs to get done. "Make sure your way's open," he manages, voice a little more wilful now but not stronger, not that much changed from how it sounded before Dorian's light opened his little world up. "You can get out at the first sign of anything. First thing you hear."
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Open.
The Bull lets out a slow breath. Seeing that should let out some of that tension strung through every inch of him. Maybe it does. The space around him has definition, now. The one eye he has left has something to take in now, something to remind it it's still whole. That's probably good. That's good.
He crawls forward a little more, tries to look up to see if the rubble above him opens up anywhere - not into open air or anything, or there would be more light, but but into something higher - and his horns thunk against the rock above.
He holds himself still. He breathes. He starts moving forward again. His leg is going to start hurting, probably sooner rather than later. For now it drags the green ground under him.
Dorian. Focus on that, instead of this. On what still needs to get done. "Make sure your way's open," he manages, voice a little more wilful now but not stronger, not that much changed from how it sounded before Dorian's light opened his little world up. "You can get out at the first sign of anything. First thing you hear."