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@this-is-not-an-alien, @ethan-leonard, @rusted-knight

 

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“How could I have anticipated that would happen!?!” Nathair says from the ground.

I lunge at Burn, knocking us both to the ground. “Stop! Punching! People! Without! Warning!”

He’s still howling curses though. Well. At least he recognizes me. Otherwise, things would have gone from bloody to deadly!

“Shut up!” I shove my elbow between Burn’s shoulder blades.

Then I see stars as Burn rams his head under my chin.

At least he didn’t break my nose this time.

“Gah! Search!” he shoves me off. “Stop ruining my fun!”

“Ruining … how is this fun?!”

“I finally got to claw his face off!” Burn snarls.

“No. you punched him.” I grab his arm before he can ‘properly’ correct this mistake. “Stop. And. Think.”

“No.”

“Would you just…” deep breaths. Use simple survivalist logic. “We have a better shot of getting home with allies. Okay?”

“Except for when our ‘allies’ are dumping us through more holes in reality.” He pauses and then starts chewing his claw. “Unless … that’s what Crazy-Voice-Punk wants. To drive us apart so that we can’t get to him.”

“What are you talking about?”

“No. It makes sense…”

“ARSENE!”

I flinch and turn to see a male human? With some kind of lizard-based talent finish punching the cavern wall.

Um.

“Who’s that?”

He takes a deep, shuddering breath slowly returning to ‘normal.’

“Arsene.” He grits through clenched teeth. “What’s your connection to him?”

“Mere passing acquaintanceship,” Nathair assured, probing “he seemed to know an old friend of mine, Alessio.”

 

BURN

I rub my battered ribs and huff. Search is always ruining my fun.

I listen to the voice of the newcomer.

“Oh great. It’s Angry-Punk.” I grumble. “Wish I could forget him.”

And then I realize “Uh. Why are our clothes dry?”

Search is silent.

“And … isn’t this my old pair of boots?” I tug at them. “From when I first fell into a hole in reality?”

I poke my finger into the sole where the glass had cut through.

Punk, ain’t that the strangest thing?

Tempting fate, I pull off my boot and feel my foot – the bandages are still there but it feels half-healed.

“Uh…

“What happened to your foot.” Search states calmly.

I don’t really want to answer that.

“Details. Now.”