[ truthfully? marta does think about it. it would be so much easier to say that she didn't, to lean hard on an impulse, but the truth of the matter is there had been time: a quick second where marta had rushed past the trembling body only to double-back, look the bandit in the eye, and fall to her knees to begin applying pressure to the gunshot would on his side.
maybe it's because his blood was red like she's familiar with. maybe it's because all the running around trying to avoid getting hurt herself has made her too frazzled. maybe it's that brief second where their eyes met, and though his were cold and reptilian, they stared at her like they were begging her not to leave him, where so many of his own already had. ]
It's okay, [ she tells him and the bandit hisses, whimpers, scaled tail thrashing in the sand, ] you'll be alright.
[ the bullet she digs out, having to find the bandit's own hands away — his claws too large to wiggle in, ease it out, and now it lays fallen forgotten by her side while she works on making sure the pool of blood they're both sitting in doesn't grow—
and that's when it happens: the feel of cold, blunt metal against her head, the sound of a revolver clicking into place. marta's hands still, then lift, and she watches with growing dismay as the reptilian bouldernake's side slowly but surely begins to stitch itself back together again. her stomach drops as a low voice snarls overhead:
"Looks like we got a soft one here, Elias. Why don't you thank the lil' lady so she can feel real stupid right 'fore she dies?" ]
kovacs.
maybe it's because his blood was red like she's familiar with. maybe it's because all the running around trying to avoid getting hurt herself has made her too frazzled. maybe it's that brief second where their eyes met, and though his were cold and reptilian, they stared at her like they were begging her not to leave him, where so many of his own already had. ]
It's okay, [ she tells him and the bandit hisses, whimpers, scaled tail thrashing in the sand, ] you'll be alright.
[ the bullet she digs out, having to find the bandit's own hands away — his claws too large to wiggle in, ease it out, and now it lays fallen forgotten by her side while she works on making sure the pool of blood they're both sitting in doesn't grow—
and that's when it happens: the feel of cold, blunt metal against her head, the sound of a revolver clicking into place. marta's hands still, then lift, and she watches with growing dismay as the reptilian bouldernake's side slowly but surely begins to stitch itself back together again. her stomach drops as a low voice snarls overhead:
"Looks like we got a soft one here, Elias. Why don't you thank the lil' lady so she can feel real stupid right 'fore she dies?" ]