Keefe's POV
"Why's Ro here?" Sophie's shattered, small voice echoed around the silent room.
Forkle sighed. "We're guessing that she went in to save Sandor, some act of platonic love, and they got trapped. It's a miracle that they survived."
Keefe wrapped his arm around Sophie, pulling the trembling girl closer to him. "They're going to be okay, right?" He was shaken at the sight of Ro, even though he'd known about her condition previously. He'd always gone to the ogre when he needed support that elves couldn't give to him, and now he couldn't. He might never be able to again.
"I'm hoping they'll make a recovery," Elwin cut in, "but I can't make any guarantees. Sandor's injuries are much more severe than Ro's, but I can't be sure any of them will be entirely the same after."
The emotions radiating off Sophie almost knocked Keefe over when he focused on them. There was raw grief, anger, but mostly guilt.
"Sophie. Sophie, look at me. Look at me!" Keefe's voice cracked. "Don't beat yourself up over this. You know what guilt could do to you, Foster." Keefe began to cry softly. "Don't do that to yourself, please, Foster. We'd have no way to get you back."
Sophie looked away, eyes trained on the ground. She didn't say it out loud, but he knew what she was thinking.
Maybe it would be better if I broke.
what's that? an update? who woulda thought?
the one person following this story: *cheering noises*
literally everyone else: *sarcasm* wow. yay. good freaking job. we care so much. wow.
i hope yall are enjoying this at least a little bit so yes