Air. He hadn't realized how claustrophobic he'd been in the helmet till it was gone, till he could take shuddering, wet gasps of the planet's salt tinged air. Till he could blink at the impossibly blue sky that felt too large; smudged by...something?
He's not alone.
It isn't as frightening as it could be, good eye glazed and blown dark, tracing that weird absence of someone that may yet be someone.
no subject
He's not alone.
It isn't as frightening as it could be, good eye glazed and blown dark, tracing that weird absence of someone that may yet be someone.