:Refer to the information on the first part for disclaimers and such:
Upon a Moonlit Night Part 10
FWUMP!
Sol paused mid-stride and turned about. The boy's slender body lay crumpled where it had dropped on the path. Exhaling an annoyed sigh, he closed the distance between them and picked up the other's limp form. Ky's skin felt extremely warm to the touch, Sol surmising he had passed out from being overheated. Cradling the blond in his arms, the older man stepped off the path into the shaded undergrowth and began to pick his way along the foliage.
It wasn't long before he came upon one of the many small streams that ran through the woods. Though they weren't far from when they had passed the remains of a town, Sol didn't trust going back. From the looks of it, the city had been under siege a long time ago and no effort had been made to reclaim it by either side. Which typically meant one thing—the dwelling's water supply had been contaminated, likely laced with poison. It was an early war tactic implanted on both sides—by the Order to inhibit the growth of the Gear's territory and by the Gears to force the humans out of their settlements. Even if the water in the city ruins was any good, Sol still didn't trust going back. Places like that were ideal habitats for lesser Gears and they were in no shape for a fight.
Placing the boy's body down against a wide tree, he took a closer look at the stream. The water was a diluted shade of murkiness but there was a slow moving current, which was a good sign. He then turned his attention back to the young Commander. If Ky indeed had collapsed from heat exhaustion, then he needed to be cooled down, and quickly. Without wasting another moment, the older man began stripping the blond of his Order uniform. Tearing off some of the more shredded strips from the hem of his own uniform, he dipped them into the cool water. Sol didn't bother to wring the sopping material much; he just started wiping down the boy's arms and chest. Mismatched eyes watched the steady, but shallow rise and fall of breaths. As the American continued to wipe him with the makeshift rag, Ky's color was coming back, and he no longer felt warm. Sol couldn't help but notice the boy's slender build; he was far thinner than the other had imagined. Which just meant Ky's strength was more wiry than bulk, he noted, watching the trails of water run down the French boy's skin, defining lean muscles and collecting in streams across his narrow chest and abdomen.
For a moment, Sol found it hard to look away.
Then he set his mouth in a firm line and wetted the material again. Like him, the blond had seen cleaner days. There was an abrasion under Ky's left cheekbone and the long ridge-resembling gash on his forehead was mostly just dried mud. Sol took a moment to clean it away before rewetting the strips. He folded the damp material and placed it on the boy's brow before plopping down next to him, sliding down the tree's wide trunk into a relaxed slouch.
The canopy of leaves and tree branches above them would provide ample shade as well as cover from any of the Gears with flying abilities. Of course this also meant that any Order airships would also miss them, but the Order's aerial force was small. The few airships they had were mainly used as transports for troops and delivering supplies. The number of airships fitted for battle was even fewer. Besides, even if the aerial patrol were looking for them, they wouldn't know where to look so it was even more unlikely that airships would be in the right location.
Rather, Sol thought definitively as he folded his hands over his stomach, it was just like what the boy had been panicking over. No one knew where he had been taken to so no one knew where to look. And if they didn't know where to search, then they wouldn't go looking. In fact, he could almost imagine that irritating Lieutenant of the Medical Unit doing what he could; but Reginald would be grasping at straws. The man missed his opportunity. No, instead, it was all up to Sol to get the Order's precious prodigy back alive. He had half a mind to just leave as it was; the kid had given him enough trouble getting caught and all…
Sol heaved a yawn. He was weary; very weary. The exhaustion that had built up over the past day and a half was finally catching up to him. Fighting the Gears at camp was child's play for him; it was the long chase that ensued afterwards that had drained him the most. By his judgments, they had covered at least fifty miles from the Order camp to the Gear outpost. Returning by foot at their current pace would take some time. There was always the thought of speeding up but Sol highly doubted the boy would be able to keep up, let alone had to ability to perform such a feat. Yawning again, the older man listened to the gentle babbling of the stream and the boy's soft breaths. As far as he was concerned, there was no immediate threat in the area so he relaxed and surrender himself over to sleep.