[Harper tugs him along, but it's even gentler now, his way of making sure the fog doesn't separate them. It's even a little...protective now. An unspoken 'I've got you.']
[The kid's...scrappy. Pretty brave for his age. The way he'd jumped to help, scrabbling in the dirt, when Harper'd taken off his rabbit's foot earlier was pretty telling, when it came to his character.]
[Harper stays quiet, listening carefully as they move. The sound of their foot falls in the dirt and grass and gravel seems muffled somehow. It's maybe late afternoon or early evening, judging from where the sun had been before the fog rolled in, but it looks darker with the sun shrouded the way it is. The mist gets colder and damper and before long, their hair is lank and dripping on their foreheads. Harper's clothes start to feel as if they've been misted by a light rain. His face feels sticky because of the hair gel running out of his hair, but he does nothing about it, refusing to let go of either the kid or his gun.]
[They seem to at least be making progress. Whatever unseen force is calling to them makes it feel as if they're getting closer, as if they'll find safety there and they seem to be passing through a valley between the hills. Even in the mists they can see a notch in the hills up ahead, a low-lying path that may let them pass into a place beyond the downs around them. Harper starts tugging Jon along faster, knowing instinctually that that's their way out. But then dark shapes loom out of the mist and Harper looks up in alarm to see that, without realizing it, they've passed beyond two standing stones, like pillars of a headless door.]
I don't remember seeing those before.
[He takes another step forward and darkness seems to fall around them suddenly, making the fog even dimmer, and the stones seem to get swallowed into the fog. Breathing harder, frightened now, Harper tugs Jon along and the ground seems to go uphill, when it'd once been flat. Then the fog opens slightly above them and they can see... stars? There are stars in the inky blackness above, between the tatters of fog and clouds, even though it shouldn't be night yet. The light of these stars is unnatural and cold and the sky is is an inky black that's somehow too dark.]
How's it night-time already?!
[An icy, biting wind suddenly batters them, chilling them to the bone. Then off to the side, they see the fog clear just enough to see a raised mound of earth and stone: a tomb. A burial mound, looming against the unnatural stars.]
[A voice suddenly comes to them, out of the ground, whispering from every direction at once:]
I am waiting for you.
[Harper turns, wheeling himself and Jon around, to try to run back the way they came, to try to find safety back beyond the standing stones, where things had been more normal, but they see a tall dark figure suddenly before them, like a shadow against the stars. They're pierced by two eyes, very cold and lit with a pale light that seems to come from some remote distance].
[Harper tries to shoot the figure with his gun but no bullets come out and he looks at it with horror when he realizes it's not working. Tossing the gun away, he shoves Jon behind him and... ]
[Something deep inside him tells him he can do something else besides shoot bullets. He tries thinking of something warm to fight the cold, one of the warmest things possible: lying sick in a bunk on the Maru, half in Trance's lap with her tail curled around him, wrapped up in warm blankets. She always chattered at him when he wasn't feeling good, and pet his hair, making him feel warm and safe even despite the irritation crawling in his chest or gut or over his skin. Something made of light bursts forth from his fingertips, but it's thin and ephemeral, barely solid. It only briefly puts something between them and the thing.]
[Harper shoves Jon to get him moving. His mouth can be seen moving, like he's shouting, but the words come across as a whisper, from across a great distance.]
Run, kid! I'll hold it off!
[A grip stronger and colder than iron seizes him. The icy touch freezes his bones, and he's gone, falling in Jon's direction, still held partly upright by a death grip on his arm. The figure looms, reaching for Jon next.]
no subject
[The kid's...scrappy. Pretty brave for his age. The way he'd jumped to help, scrabbling in the dirt, when Harper'd taken off his rabbit's foot earlier was pretty telling, when it came to his character.]
[Harper stays quiet, listening carefully as they move. The sound of their foot falls in the dirt and grass and gravel seems muffled somehow. It's maybe late afternoon or early evening, judging from where the sun had been before the fog rolled in, but it looks darker with the sun shrouded the way it is. The mist gets colder and damper and before long, their hair is lank and dripping on their foreheads. Harper's clothes start to feel as if they've been misted by a light rain. His face feels sticky because of the hair gel running out of his hair, but he does nothing about it, refusing to let go of either the kid or his gun.]
[They seem to at least be making progress. Whatever unseen force is calling to them makes it feel as if they're getting closer, as if they'll find safety there and they seem to be passing through a valley between the hills. Even in the mists they can see a notch in the hills up ahead, a low-lying path that may let them pass into a place beyond the downs around them. Harper starts tugging Jon along faster, knowing instinctually that that's their way out. But then dark shapes loom out of the mist and Harper looks up in alarm to see that, without realizing it, they've passed beyond two standing stones, like pillars of a headless door.]
I don't remember seeing those before.
[He takes another step forward and darkness seems to fall around them suddenly, making the fog even dimmer, and the stones seem to get swallowed into the fog. Breathing harder, frightened now, Harper tugs Jon along and the ground seems to go uphill, when it'd once been flat. Then the fog opens slightly above them and they can see... stars? There are stars in the inky blackness above, between the tatters of fog and clouds, even though it shouldn't be night yet. The light of these stars is unnatural and cold and the sky is is an inky black that's somehow too dark.]
How's it night-time already?!
[An icy, biting wind suddenly batters them, chilling them to the bone. Then off to the side, they see the fog clear just enough to see a raised mound of earth and stone: a tomb. A burial mound, looming against the unnatural stars.]
[A voice suddenly comes to them, out of the ground, whispering from every direction at once:]
I am waiting for you.
[Harper turns, wheeling himself and Jon around, to try to run back the way they came, to try to find safety back beyond the standing stones, where things had been more normal, but they see a tall dark figure suddenly before them, like a shadow against the stars. They're pierced by two eyes, very cold and lit with a pale light that seems to come from some remote distance].
[Harper tries to shoot the figure with his gun but no bullets come out and he looks at it with horror when he realizes it's not working. Tossing the gun away, he shoves Jon behind him and... ]
[Something deep inside him tells him he can do something else besides shoot bullets. He tries thinking of something warm to fight the cold, one of the warmest things possible: lying sick in a bunk on the Maru, half in Trance's lap with her tail curled around him, wrapped up in warm blankets. She always chattered at him when he wasn't feeling good, and pet his hair, making him feel warm and safe even despite the irritation crawling in his chest or gut or over his skin. Something made of light bursts forth from his fingertips, but it's thin and ephemeral, barely solid. It only briefly puts something between them and the thing.]
[Harper shoves Jon to get him moving. His mouth can be seen moving, like he's shouting, but the words come across as a whisper, from across a great distance.]
Run, kid! I'll hold it off!
[A grip stronger and colder than iron seizes him. The icy touch freezes his bones, and he's gone, falling in Jon's direction, still held partly upright by a death grip on his arm. The figure looms, reaching for Jon next.]