It felt like an eternity before Citan's mind kicked into gear again; at first he could only stare and wonder if the sun had addled him more than he'd thought. What were the odds of--
Well, what were the odds of his ending up here in the first place? He touched the side of the great ship and it burned him, heated by the desert. If it was a mirage or an illusion it was certainly a convincing one, and although he was half-afraid to trust his weight to the ladder in case he was hallucinating he couldn't just stand here and gawpe while one of his oldest and dearest friends beckoned to him from up there. He'd thought they had all been lost to him forever.
He tested the first rung, and it held.
Citan had never climbed anything more quickly in his life. By the time that his head popped back into view he'd found his voice, although it didn't have anything particularly intelligent to say. "Sigurd?" was all that came out, so hesitant for a man who generally believed what his eyes told him, and then again: "Sigurd!"
And he practically flung himself onto the deck, although the searing press of metal on his hands may have had something to do with that.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2010-03-10 12:40 am (UTC)Well, what were the odds of his ending up here in the first place? He touched the side of the great ship and it burned him, heated by the desert. If it was a mirage or an illusion it was certainly a convincing one, and although he was half-afraid to trust his weight to the ladder in case he was hallucinating he couldn't just stand here and gawpe while one of his oldest and dearest friends beckoned to him from up there. He'd thought they had all been lost to him forever.
He tested the first rung, and it held.
Citan had never climbed anything more quickly in his life. By the time that his head popped back into view he'd found his voice, although it didn't have anything particularly intelligent to say. "Sigurd?" was all that came out, so hesitant for a man who generally believed what his eyes told him, and then again: "Sigurd!"
And he practically flung himself onto the deck, although the searing press of metal on his hands may have had something to do with that.