[ His savior comes in the form of an aggravated elf in waterlogged robes, who drags him to the shallows where Stiles is able to get his feet back under himself. Like long, thin beached whales, the spider limbs flop lifelessly upon the shore and make no further attempt to assist him; he stumbles out of the water on his own to join them, coughing and wheezing. ]
L-leave…you be? [ Spoken from where he is currently faceplanted onto stone, with no inclination to turn over and properly address Voryn. ] Y-you’re the one…who…!
[ Suddenly, all eight spider limbs reanimate. Straightening into the air, they begin to shake water off their delicate hairs vigorously – beneath them, Stiles whines unhappily as he’s showered in the cold droplets.
He’s not going anywhere, Voryn. If you need peace, you’ll have to find it elsewhere. ]
no subject
L-leave…you be? [ Spoken from where he is currently faceplanted onto stone, with no inclination to turn over and properly address Voryn. ] Y-you’re the one…who…!
[ Suddenly, all eight spider limbs reanimate. Straightening into the air, they begin to shake water off their delicate hairs vigorously – beneath them, Stiles whines unhappily as he’s showered in the cold droplets.
He’s not going anywhere, Voryn. If you need peace, you’ll have to find it elsewhere. ]