For several moments as Abraham crouched down and analyzed Natasha's blank, pallid features, he felt like he was in some sort of bubble. The sounds around him seemed to be coming from a hundred miles away; the only sound that he heard up close was that of the rain pattering against the sand. The drops were running down through his hair and over his cheeks, while somewhere in the distance he heard none other than Waylon shouting at the top of his lungs. “Please, Abraham, get up! We've got to go! Just bring Natasha! Please! Hurry!”
The bubble burst as Abraham looked up to see Waylon in front of him, and before the boy could respond he felt the Texan's arms wrapping around him in a brief but nonetheless inviting hug. “Abraham, please, not now. I hate this. We can't lose. I can't be alone. I need your help. I need you.”
Waylon's words were enough to put Abraham in high alert once more. He glanced at Waylon's extended hand, then in a swift motion, he took it with his own cold one then stood to his feet and tossed Natasha over his shoulder as gently as he could. His left arm was secured protectively around the girl, and as he looked down to meet Waylon's worried eyes, Abraham squeezed his hand gently. "I am not under any circumstances leaving your side. We have to make it to the castle, now, I want to know where the fuck the headmaster is." His voice was once again strong and determined, and it was then that he realized just how worried he had been about Waylon since the attack had begun. The relief that flooded over him now was the first positive emotion he had felt over the past half hour.
He began walking hurriedly across the wet sand, his boots sinking into it with every step he took, then he remembered something else that wiped away any relief he felt just a few moments ago. "Schwarz is down. I don't know if you knew or not, but he was hit bad."
The bubble burst as Abraham looked up to see Waylon in front of him, and before the boy could respond he felt the Texan's arms wrapping around him in a brief but nonetheless inviting hug. “Abraham, please, not now. I hate this. We can't lose. I can't be alone. I need your help. I need you.”
Waylon's words were enough to put Abraham in high alert once more. He glanced at Waylon's extended hand, then in a swift motion, he took it with his own cold one then stood to his feet and tossed Natasha over his shoulder as gently as he could. His left arm was secured protectively around the girl, and as he looked down to meet Waylon's worried eyes, Abraham squeezed his hand gently. "I am not under any circumstances leaving your side. We have to make it to the castle, now, I want to know where the fuck the headmaster is." His voice was once again strong and determined, and it was then that he realized just how worried he had been about Waylon since the attack had begun. The relief that flooded over him now was the first positive emotion he had felt over the past half hour.
He began walking hurriedly across the wet sand, his boots sinking into it with every step he took, then he remembered something else that wiped away any relief he felt just a few moments ago. "Schwarz is down. I don't know if you knew or not, but he was hit bad."