@cyborgrightsactivist :
He would always blame the frozen air of the mountain for any given affliction. This was easiest, and the young cyborg shook hard enough, but for some it must not be believable. He avoided meeting a gaze that radiated worry.
âNo, itâs okay,â he rasped, hugging his own shoulders. But his eyes drooped, breath shaky, and Vinn certainly didnât look okay.
A relapse was a relapse. Even the most tranquil monk couldnât prevent that.
Caldera sits back, four arms crossed in a way that couldnât have happened if they hadnât gotten rid of their mechanical claws.
Earlier on, they wouldâve acted the same as Vinn out of necessity. In the Midwest, they kept going. In the middle of a metropolis, they kept going. Amidst the snow or the blinding hotness of middle-eastern summer, alone or protecting a group, they kept going no matter how much of a wreck they were. Yet they are safe far back in the mountains, with all the time in the world, and Caldera is confused.
They disregard Vinnâs statement. âWhy would you go on with your usual routine in such a state ? â
