The flakes were white.
Splashed against the hot, tropical sky, one might think of a wintry miracle when viewing the array of gently wafting particles.
Zoro sniffed as a few said particles danced into his nose.
And ears.
And eyes.
He tried rolling his right shoulder to ease the tension that had accumulated from holding his pose for so long, but to no avail: the wax had already built up enough to seal in his arm.
Oh, well.
Sighing inwardly, he turned as much of his head as the growing stiffness in his neck would allow to see where his captain was.
Still merrily sipping tea with that little brat, of course.
This situation wasn't the most ideal, but he figured that if Luffy proved himself to be as reliable as he'd observed so far, then it wasn't that big of a deal. On the other hand, if he were to die here...well, he was resigned to that fate as well.
Of course, Usopp and Carue were still running around somewhere out in the jungle, so maybe he wouldn't have to forfeit his promise to Kuina just yet.
Maybe.
As the wax flooding his eyes blocked out his last glimpses of light, Zoro inhaled deeply and decided to hope for the best.
At least the build-up of wax on his legs had stopped the flow of blood that Nami had been complaining about.
A burning heat, red-hot and hotter than anything he'd ever felt before, and then...
Freedom.