[Koby's more than willing to push the rapidly decreasing adrenaline as much as it'll go -- he's used to not needing much food or water or rest, and maybe that'll finally come in handy. But his presence, wounded and scared and wary, also might end up as a liability. He might slow Mihawk down, make him impatient.
So he's determined to keep up, if only because the idea of being in this place alone is worse than the pain.
The hand at his back gets another of those soft, surprised little shivers, not quite a cringe or flinch. More like his body doesn't understand a touch that doesn't hurt. He doesn't move away, though, let's his attention focus on that point of contact, so warm it seems to hum. It makes walking easier.
Koby wants to pepper Mihawk with questions about his theories -- why are they here, how did they get here, has he seen anyone else, et cetera. But there'll be time for that once they find a place to stay, a home base of sorts. Most of the houses are similar, cookie-cutter, in a variety of bright pastels. They're on a street -- Adelaide Drive, Koby notes, already mentally mapping the place out -- that seems to be mostly these.
But then they pass a cross street -- Cavendish -- and Koby pauses, zeroing in on a house partway down the street. It's a more muted, soft dove grey color, Victorian style, with a surprisingly abundant amount of daisies in the front yard. Koby thinks the color matches Mihawk's sensibilities -- not important, not really, but he's desperate for something nice here. Something comforting. And he loves daisies.
Unaware that he's starting to tremble a little with the strain of staying upright, Koby points at the grey house.] What about that one?
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So he's determined to keep up, if only because the idea of being in this place alone is worse than the pain.
The hand at his back gets another of those soft, surprised little shivers, not quite a cringe or flinch. More like his body doesn't understand a touch that doesn't hurt. He doesn't move away, though, let's his attention focus on that point of contact, so warm it seems to hum. It makes walking easier.
Koby wants to pepper Mihawk with questions about his theories -- why are they here, how did they get here, has he seen anyone else, et cetera. But there'll be time for that once they find a place to stay, a home base of sorts. Most of the houses are similar, cookie-cutter, in a variety of bright pastels. They're on a street -- Adelaide Drive, Koby notes, already mentally mapping the place out -- that seems to be mostly these.
But then they pass a cross street -- Cavendish -- and Koby pauses, zeroing in on a house partway down the street. It's a more muted, soft dove grey color, Victorian style, with a surprisingly abundant amount of daisies in the front yard. Koby thinks the color matches Mihawk's sensibilities -- not important, not really, but he's desperate for something nice here. Something comforting. And he loves daisies.
Unaware that he's starting to tremble a little with the strain of staying upright, Koby points at the grey house.] What about that one?