Hi guys! Okay it's official:
CURRENTLY ON HIATUS
but I may update every now and then if I can't handle the stress lol. (that's just backwards, don't you think?)
Disclaimer: I don't own SnK because Sie sind das essen und WE ONLY SWIM FREE FOR THE TEAM ((SOB FOREVER))
Three Warriors
xxx. frail .xxx
The hunger that strikes him is sudden, violent.
How can hunger be violent?
But it was, and it is, and it will be for all time, because the slab of bread akin to a hefty rock hardly crumbles under his feeble attempt to chew, and he's lying in the tall, tall green grass trying to subdue the terror that clamps his throat shut and broils his stomach in nauseating apprehension.
Perhaps it is not hunger, but simply anxiety.
The wall is within their sights — though, at the moment, it is so far that it's hardly taller than his thumbnail if he holds his hand out at arm's length. The billowing plains of grass, half a mild green and half a wheat yellow, are taller than him. Sometimes they conceal his companions, and he is wrought with unbidden anxiousness that freezes him to the spot until Reiner tugs his sleeve gently and he receives a less than pleased nudge in the back from Annie.
He decides, then, that it is his propensity for excessive fretfulness that has him shaking on the ground, little stalks and stems typically trampled underfoot catching his attention. He is like a horse unwilling to take the bit; his jaw is clamped shut, and he is everywhere except thinking about the fact that if Annie forces the bread against his chapped lips again, his mouth will bleed.
"Eat," she says, and when she kicks him so hard in the gut that he cries out, Reiner forcefully shoves the rock bread into his unwilling throat.
He tastes salt in the bland roll, and realizes that it's the tears rolling down his face. Sitting up, the ever-growing wall of civilization is obscured by the swaying sea of leaves, rocking side to side as if in a slow, intricate dance of amity. It's hypnotic, and instantly, he is soothed. The quiver in his stomach that once resided with a pit of wrath settles, and he finds himself gnawing determinedly on what must be the last of their rations. Even the block of cheese is gone, the rare apple or two eaten away until almost nothing remains, and the slip of precious rabbit meat devoured at first chance.
They have been travelling for a long time.
And in three days, they will reach the wall.
He doesn't remember the journey being so quick. But as he clings desperately to Reiner's back, the miles crumble beneath each stride and as Wall Rose diminishes behind them, he can't help but think of how nice it would be to drop to the earth and curl up among the whorls of grass and flowers, and simply forget.
/chapter
Bertholdt is not frail, though. Simply withdrawn, contemplative...
AS ALWAYS: a lot of stuff is up to the reader's interpretation! Go where you like, with what you fancy, what you deem suitable for quenching your heart's thirst and desire!
*whirls away on a Levi-face pug*