[ cacawcacaw ]
Ellis isn’t light, sure, but it’ll take more than a wound on his side to leave him incapable of helping her out. “Jus’ keep it steady.” Wrapping the fingers of his claimed arm around her own, all he needs is a little support to pull himself to his feet — and by the looks of it, that’s exactly what Lara intends to provide. It takes a few seconds of grunting and gritting his teeth, but he does eventually manage to get himself upright.
One hand clasping a screaming gash strained by motion, the mention of Louisiana doesn’t remedy the frown tugging on his face.
"We were leavin’ N’Orleans when I got split up from m’ folks." He still remembers it clearly, too — the air force jets, the napalm nearly dropped right on their heads. The bridge. Being reminded that their trek across the southern part of the country was completely futile only has his attention going straight to the scuffed toes of his boots. “There ain’t nothin’ back there waitin’ for us no more. Trust me.”
She may not had optimism engraved in her bones, but this Georgian does. That’s why he imagines there’s still a place out there they can take refuge in, too. Refuge for good.
How fortunate it was he held onto consciousness— had he been any weaker, her odds of helping him, if at all, would’ve decreased dramatically. After all, a lost cause was no cause, and she had little need for such waste.
Battered fingers held fast to his arm, worn heels digging into the pavement for leverage. A bite of her lower lip staved a grunt of exertion from pushing itself from her chords, but they managed. Ellis was on his feet. Wounded and discontent as he were, at least the worst of their dilemma has passed. Her grip loosened to a degree yet remained if only for the assurance he’d remain standing.
An exhalation of a gasp left her lips in a near-apologetic way. He’s come a long ways, then. Completely opposite of the infamous city.
❝So, CEDA—? It’s all gone?❞
Not that her faith resided with them in the first place. It wasn’t a bad thought to trust in control somewhere, though. CEDA was a symbol for that control, however flimsy and unreliable it all seemed.
Lara didn’t require a response, the cogs turning in her mind to a bitter and instinctive system that made her speak thoughts aloud.
Her mouth pressed into a line as mahogany hues hardened with focus. It’ll be getting dark soon and they had a lot of ground to cover.
❝We should prob’ly get moving.❞