Deer Country Contact

[terriblepurpose]

ic contact

un: younghuman ✦ text ✦ voice ✦ video

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[hearthebell]

What matters is the truth, and that goes as far as it does. Invariably. Perpetually.

[He glances up blearily, vision still double, reaching out with measured care to take Paul's hand. It only takes him two and a half tries.]

Call me "old man," more. I could get used to it.

[I'll be here a long time, he might as well have said, and it's alright for you to get used to it, too.]

[terriblepurpose]

You had better.

[ Because I'll keep saying it, he might as well say back in turn. He doesn't keep holding Lazarus' hand after he's drawn him to his feet, nor does he loop his arm around Paul's shoulders, but he lingers close as his Omen emerges from the surf and makes a graceful, impossible leap to his front pocket.

Paul readjusts the blanket draped around Lazarus, which is suspiciously like an excuse to be close, and nods up the beach. ]

The truth is - I'm counting on you, all right? So -

[ So come with him up the beach when he starts walking. So stay around, or come back if you go. So here they are, still side by side, and that's something, even if it's not everything. ]

/wrap!

[hearthebell]

[L recognizes the call to rise to something. However capable he feels, he's heartened by Paul's confidence in him, his need for him to deliver, giving a slightly sloppy, slightly sleepy nod in response.

He accompanies, staying close, never straying ahead enough to lead or falling back enough to follow. Side-by-side, in fact, they will remain.]