"Why not now?" the Bull asks with a little smile. "You want me to wait and tug on your special staff later?"
Not that any flirting right now is more than show. Not that they both don't know it. The flirting's kind of nice, though, all the same, distracting in the ways they both need it to be. Still feels a little weird, reaching out and grabbing the thing on purpose, but in a more residual way this time, because he's done this before. There's no magic sitting in it waiting to reach out at whoever grabs it. Staves don't work that way. He did this not that long ago and no weird crap happened then either, did it? And it isn't going to. The parts of his mind that don't really believe that probably wouldn't be as jumpy about it if he wasn't already all worked up, so he can ignore them. It's fine. Not that there isn't a problem with the Bull standing here holding Dorian's weapon, but that problem doesn't have anything to do with whether or not having it in his hand just feels a little bit creepy.
"Keep your hand on it too, or near it or something," he says, taking a few experimental steps. He won't have to go so slow once he's found the rhythm of it again, and that won't take long. "Don't want to slow you down if you need it."
He looks up at the path, the little spirit things Dorian's got lighting up the way, keeps his breathing deep and regular as he starts to move, gets into the pattern of it-
-and of course, once he gets out in the open, once he starts thinking he might make it onto that path and get a little cover, maybe lean against the wall, he starts to hear it. Darkspawn must not be all that good at sneaking, the Bull finds himself thinking, but they're good enough, aren't they? Good enough to take the Bull by surprise twice now, not give him enough time to hide. Shit.
He has time to glance at Dorian and try to shove the staff at him but not enough time to argue about it; if Dorian takes it back, great, if he doesn't, the Bull's still going to try and run for it, or come as close as he can get without the shitting ankle giving out. He's gone too far to get back to their little tunnel, it'd take too much time to get in and so the only hope is forward, get around that bend, hope there's something they can use there. Somewhere to hide, some solid cover - anything. The smell is getting stronger, the chitters and shrieks behind them louder and more excited, and the urge to turn and pull out his axe tugs at the Bull's mind. But if he did that it'd be the last thing he ever did and Dorian wouldn't even be smart enough to take the distraction and run, besides. Dorian would stay if he stayed, and die trying to protect him. Sometimes it's a real pain in the ass, fighting with good men at your back.
So the Bull keeps moving. Everything he had been putting into sounding like moving didn't hurt is going into speed now and rhythmic, pained noises start making their way out of him, noises it's getting harder to hear over the darkspawn but the bend in that path is getting closer, too, along with whatever's behind it. Because there has to be something behind it. He has to believe there's something behind it, anyway, believe enough to keep him moving at this stupid, hobbling pace, the bent up brace twisted around his ankle the only thing keeping him up, and if there's nothing once he gets there but more open space, well -
He'll deal with that once he sees it. He's had enough last stands already, or moments that were supposed to be. He knows how they go.
no subject
Not that any flirting right now is more than show. Not that they both don't know it. The flirting's kind of nice, though, all the same, distracting in the ways they both need it to be. Still feels a little weird, reaching out and grabbing the thing on purpose, but in a more residual way this time, because he's done this before. There's no magic sitting in it waiting to reach out at whoever grabs it. Staves don't work that way. He did this not that long ago and no weird crap happened then either, did it? And it isn't going to. The parts of his mind that don't really believe that probably wouldn't be as jumpy about it if he wasn't already all worked up, so he can ignore them. It's fine. Not that there isn't a problem with the Bull standing here holding Dorian's weapon, but that problem doesn't have anything to do with whether or not having it in his hand just feels a little bit creepy.
"Keep your hand on it too, or near it or something," he says, taking a few experimental steps. He won't have to go so slow once he's found the rhythm of it again, and that won't take long. "Don't want to slow you down if you need it."
He looks up at the path, the little spirit things Dorian's got lighting up the way, keeps his breathing deep and regular as he starts to move, gets into the pattern of it-
-and of course, once he gets out in the open, once he starts thinking he might make it onto that path and get a little cover, maybe lean against the wall, he starts to hear it. Darkspawn must not be all that good at sneaking, the Bull finds himself thinking, but they're good enough, aren't they? Good enough to take the Bull by surprise twice now, not give him enough time to hide. Shit.
He has time to glance at Dorian and try to shove the staff at him but not enough time to argue about it; if Dorian takes it back, great, if he doesn't, the Bull's still going to try and run for it, or come as close as he can get without the shitting ankle giving out. He's gone too far to get back to their little tunnel, it'd take too much time to get in and so the only hope is forward, get around that bend, hope there's something they can use there. Somewhere to hide, some solid cover - anything. The smell is getting stronger, the chitters and shrieks behind them louder and more excited, and the urge to turn and pull out his axe tugs at the Bull's mind. But if he did that it'd be the last thing he ever did and Dorian wouldn't even be smart enough to take the distraction and run, besides. Dorian would stay if he stayed, and die trying to protect him. Sometimes it's a real pain in the ass, fighting with good men at your back.
So the Bull keeps moving. Everything he had been putting into sounding like moving didn't hurt is going into speed now and rhythmic, pained noises start making their way out of him, noises it's getting harder to hear over the darkspawn but the bend in that path is getting closer, too, along with whatever's behind it. Because there has to be something behind it. He has to believe there's something behind it, anyway, believe enough to keep him moving at this stupid, hobbling pace, the bent up brace twisted around his ankle the only thing keeping him up, and if there's nothing once he gets there but more open space, well -
He'll deal with that once he sees it. He's had enough last stands already, or moments that were supposed to be. He knows how they go.