The Ton | I N B O X

[droppingin]

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[droppingin]

[ She can't even deny it, the way she left in the middle of the night to find him with no information but a location and a worry in the pit of her stomach she refused to put word to. He called, and she'd come. ]

Always having to find you myself.

[ It's mock annoyance; she's got a handle on her smile now, but only because she's reduced it by half to a smirk.

She hears him hiss behind her, already missing the warmth of his arm around her, and compromises, holding the reins in one hand temporarily to reach down and grip his thigh just above the knee, squeezing gently. ]

There it is.

[ she echoes quietly. She'd heard of this particular fort, of course, but hadn't had much reason to make it there herself, yet. ]

You gonna make it?

[ She teases softly as they approach, retrieving her hand after a final pat to his leg so she can keep both hands on the reins, just in case her horse decides to find something innocuous terrifying while on a drawbridge.

Blessedly she doesn't, and the next order of business is finding somewhere to dismount, get Leon inside, and... find a first aid kit along with a hope and a prayer. ]

[knife2meetu]

Pheme hasn't made me go soft yet.

[ In the end, though, as they reach the small courtyard of the fort, Leon has to disembark and chooses to just get the painful business dealt with — by not exactly hurling himself from the back but it's hardly graceful, and for a few moments he'd appreciate no spectating or interference while he stands, slightly bent, significantly pale, and potentially trying not to heave at the agonized protest of his ribs.

Is he good? Fuck no. And there isn't any protest when he carefully steps into the fort's hall towards what is, presumably, a larger common area inside the fort's walls. It's some time before he speaks, and when he does, it's with mere sips of words and breath. ]

Storage room. Got supplies there.