[This is how they die; whatever's been blown into their tent is, decidedly, not very skunky. His eyes aren't at all watering, but the uncertainty of it all has him pulling the collar of his shirt up over the bridge of his nose and cupping his hand over both that and his mouth. He's squinting through the fumes, trying to catch a glimpse of wherever that thing scurried off to, and despite having revenge on his mind for all of three seconds...
That sentiment's leaving him in a hurry; there's a calmness filling that gap, even as he's strangling the handle of his knife.
....So maybe they are being poisoned. This is how he dies. Semi-straddling Lance in a tent that's way too small for them, on a planet they don't know anything about. At least the blue paladin's last words weren't borderline whining about an injured tongue -- excluding that scream, anyway. Speaking of, he suddenly finds himself more rapt on the guy beneath him than he is focused on the gas or the fact that they're dying.
He won't dare try to speak. Not until the smoke becomes grows distilled and translucent. For now, he'll just quietly stare at Lance. Like in this scene from Lady and the Tramp.]
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That sentiment's leaving him in a hurry; there's a calmness filling that gap, even as he's strangling the handle of his knife.
....So maybe they are being poisoned. This is how he dies. Semi-straddling Lance in a tent that's way too small for them, on a planet they don't know anything about. At least the blue paladin's last words weren't borderline whining about an injured tongue -- excluding that scream, anyway. Speaking of, he suddenly finds himself more rapt on the guy beneath him than he is focused on the gas or the fact that they're dying.
He won't dare try to speak. Not until the smoke becomes grows distilled and translucent. For now, he'll just quietly stare at Lance. Like in this scene from Lady and the Tramp.]