Lightheaded, Yu tore the ropes open again,
pulled half of the mess back out,
and fumbled for the stamina potion.
He trapped the bottle between his stumps,
worked the cork free with his beak,
tipped it over his head,
and <<sho–ok it >>
until the last bitter drop
spilled into his mouth.
The taste lingered, t hi n,
vaguely medicinal, without promise.
Still on his knees,
he dragged the blanket from the bed
and wrapped it >tightly around himself<,
wa i ti n g f or any sign of effect.
Lightheaded, Yu
tore the ropes open again,
pulled half of the mess back out,
and fumbled for
the stamina potion.
He trapped the bottle between his stumps,
worked the cork
free with his beak,
tipped it over his head,
and <<sho–ok it >>
until the last bitter drop
spilled into his mouth.
The taste lingered, t hi n,
vaguely medicinal,
without promise.
Still on his knees,
he dragged the blanket
from the bed
and wrapped it
>tightly around himself<,
wa i ti n g f or
any sign of effect.
But deep down, he already knew.
Somewhere between frostbitten and waterlogged,
between burned and burned out,
between collapse and routine,
his body had understood
that going to shits was Yu’s new baseline.
But deep down,
he already knew.
Somewhere between
frostbitten and
waterlogged, between
burned and burned out,
between collapse
and routine,
his body had understood
that going to shits
was Yu’s new baseline.
Respectively, it had revised its expectations,
and given up on signalling
any marginal shift toward improvement.
Pain no longer rose and fell, it end ured.
Fatigue did not warn, it settled.
Collapse was no long e r a condition,
but his character trait.
So once again, Yu did not feel better,
just … a touch less able to die on the spot,
less close to outright drop where he sat,
Though even that was hard to trust.
By now, It might just be
Yu would readily believe that wishful thinking.
Harrow had given him some worthless concoction,
a diluted tonic or some cheap stimulant,
a lie in liquid form to convince him to keep going,
some fake juice to pretend–motivate him.
Whatever it was, it brought him one thing only.
Yu felt a bit more able to >>keep himself together<<
to think for a moment lon g e r . .
. .
Respectively, it had revised its expectations,
and given up on signalling
any marginal shift
toward improvement.
Pain no longer rose and fell, it end ured.
Fatigue did not warn, it settled.
Collapse was no long e r a condition,
but his character trait.
So once again, Yu did not feel better,
just … a touch less able to die on the spot,
less close to outright drop where he sat,
Though even that was hard to trust.
By now, It might just be
Yu would readily believe that wishful thinking.
Harrow had given him some worthless concoction,
a diluted tonic or some cheap stimulant,
a lie in liquid form to convince him to keep going,
some fake juice to pretend–motivate him.
Whatever it was, it brought him one thing only.
Yu felt a bit more able to >>keep himself together<<
to think for a moment lon g e r . .
. .
Respectively, it had
revised its expectations,
and given up
on signalling
any marginal shift
toward improvement.
Pain
no longer rose and fell,
it end ured.
Fatigue
did not warn, it settled.
Collapse
was no long e r
a condition, but
his character trait.
So once again,
Yu did not feel better,
just . . .
. . . a touch less
able to die on the spot,
less close to outright
drop where he sat,
Though even that
was hard to trust.
By now,
It might just be
wishful thinking.
Yu would readily believe
that Harrow had given him
some worthless concoction,
a diluted tonic or
some cheap stimulant,
a lie in liquid form
to convince him to
keep going,
some fake juice to
pretend–motivate him.
Whatever it was,
it brought him
one thing only.
Yu felt a bit more able to
>>keep himself together<<
to think
for a moment
lon g e r . .
. .
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