a tired throne - open; washed ashore/joining

[METEOR]

Quasar lunged forward too slow to assist the hybrid before he fell into the ground. The sparkledoggo’s brow furrowed deeper with each word the stranger spoke; he glanced at Medusa, as though validating the truth of his reality. Quasar’d seen joiners in bad shape and confrontational bullies show up at their borders before, but not a washed up glowy-boy like the finned hybrid.

Nosing the other’s face, Quasar murmured and tried to keep the other awake. “Hey, hey, stay awake.” Quasar pulled a waterskin off his shoulder and pawed at the bioluminescent hybrid to force him to hold it. “You need some fluids and food, probably, not to mention the all clear from Vaas before you take a nap.”

Honestly, Quasar had no idea if what he said made any sense, but he guessed dehydration definitely fucked this guy over. And if he passed out, well, then getting fluids in him would be almost impossible. Hence his I’m-not-a-medic-but-here logic. “Uh, Medusa, maybe we need Vaas right now? He looks real bad. And smells even worse up close.”

[member=16248]VAAS .[/member]

[sub][W]isker[/sub]