(no subject)

[e_delmar]

It's cold, and the wind's howling out there like a sumbitch, and Ennis Del Mar finds himself caught up in the thin sheet, tossing and turning until he's wrapped like a mummy and panicking, a thin sheen of sweat on his face. He cries out and manages to free an arm, punching into the air-


not the air. A person.

Comments

[jack_f_twist]

Jack's there and not and the mountain is cold--easy to forget just how cold, how lonesome the camp could get. There's the clip-clop of hooves outside, or maybe it's the banging of metal on...something, or the branches of the trees knocking into each other.

"Fucked up dream," Jack says, like the last few minutes never happened, like he isn't shadowy and blurred around the edges and hard to grab hold of, as if he were nothing more than a thick cloud of smoke.

[e_delmar]

Fucked up dream is all Ennis hears as he twists in his bed, blankets tangled around him, and his eyes open only once before he falls back asleep.