Kazari sticks his hands in his pockets. To anyone else it would look simply defensive, or perhaps anxious. But I've seen that move so many times before, in so many different ways, and I note the shape of his hand as he wraps it around something in his pocket. Something he's clinging to tightly like a security blanket. Like a weapon.
Like a GaiaMemory.
I cough quietly to clear my throat. "He was by the side of the road, wrapped up in black plastic, like a trash bag." I think back to how bad he looked, beaten and bruised from head to toe, but admittedly not bleeding freely. Any blood that had been there had already been dried and scabbed over. "He'd been bleeding at one point, but not recently enough to..."
Far too late the oddness of the question strikes me, and I give Kazari an odd look. "How do you know that?" I ask with a quizzical look on my face. "That he wasn't bleeding."
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2012-08-06 07:07 am (UTC)Like a GaiaMemory.
I cough quietly to clear my throat. "He was by the side of the road, wrapped up in black plastic, like a trash bag." I think back to how bad he looked, beaten and bruised from head to toe, but admittedly not bleeding freely. Any blood that had been there had already been dried and scabbed over. "He'd been bleeding at one point, but not recently enough to..."
Far too late the oddness of the question strikes me, and I give Kazari an odd look. "How do you know that?" I ask with a quizzical look on my face. "That he wasn't bleeding."