Thirteen Minutes 1/2

Is he supposed to twitch like that? Distracted, Dag’s eyes flickered to the side as one of the General’s hands spasmodically clenched and her forearm ached in sympathy. The man had confirmed the silver wire was the only obstacle, but maybe they hadn’t removed it completely. What if there is still a piece of it embedded in his spine?

A firm hand clamped down on her shoulder and Dag blinked, realizing that she had already half turned towards the tank. Hard fingers pressed a pattern of assurance and the order to stay on her bicep and the scout relaxed back into position. Captain knows what is going on then. She rolled her left shoulder. Maybe expected it. This was not the time to have doubts.

Dag narrowed her eyes on the door. Leave the worrying to Cap. I’ll watch our backs.


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About azhwi

An editing student, graduated Feb 2012. An avid fan of video games, fanfiction, anime, writing, and the serial comma.
This entry was posted in Fiction, Man-Made Wings, Post-Trauma, Writing and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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