DEAR DICTATOR → zuko

╸thirteen : the home stretch

❝ the home stretch ❞

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          Zuko has doubted Nari's ability to regain consciousness ever since her breath changed from slow and shallow to rapid, yet a grip tightens around his hand-- cold fingertips press into the back of Zuko's hand, the first non-instinctive movement from Nari.

Fire still blazes from their ship, one huge, gathered flame that gives but the slightest warmth against the brisk air of the night. This is a proper sign that, though it's felt like days since the first explosion sounded, it couldn't have been more than an hour ago. It's burning colors fight through the backs of Nari's closed eyes, black and red registering in her mind before all else.

Then the pain hits, which is to be expected.

Nari undergoes all the symptoms which fantastically follow her injuries, like a spinning head full of air, soreness, quickened heart rate with rapid breathing, sweating in the freezing cold despite the chilled temperature of her clammy skin, the growing tingle in her lower right leg and the scourging pain above it from a deep gash. Her muscles burn like fire, some enormous pain inflicting all around her back, her sweat drips more than her damp clothes or still-bleeding cuts that force her fingers into a trembling dance, Even her lungs crying out as she expels the excessive amount of inhaled and swallowed sea water-- this all processes before Nari even has the chance to open her eyes.

She does this with a airy hiss through tightened teeth. Her hand squeezes against Zuko's-- evidently it's his, as no one else is with her besides what blurred vision tells her is Iroh. She sits up with the help of Zuko (which is hastily shoved off as she's not weak enough to need any) yet movement makes her skin scream due to the scrapes on her back-- they don't agree with the stretching and pulling Nari's forced. Around her is a cove-covering of darkened and wet rocks, the salty water shimmering off a silvery glow all thanks to a risen moon, plus the nephew-uncle duo of Zuko and Iroh.

The former sits at her side, equally as tattered from the blast. It could be said that his sleeves have been burned off, but the tight cloth around her stomach and leg prove that Zuko's turned his sleeves into bandages.

Thoughtful, she admits.

He's more concerned with her than both himself and his strikingly damaged ship, golden eyes shaking with worry. Such is almost tangible, equally pictured from the yanking of his features and the slack of his jaw, parting dry and pale lips.

The same image now rests on Nari's face. "I'm fine," she insists, speaking to Zuko and Iroh's concern, swiping whatever contents previously left her mouth away "or I will be. What about you?"

Zuko seems hesitant to answer. His eyes squint before searching over his body, then darting back to his ship. "I.. we'll be alright. Uncle and I came up with a plan while you were out." He backs up against a surrounding rock, resting into it just like Nari before holding his hands into his lap. Zuko rears his head back as his breath fogs into the chilled air, ponytail scrunching against the tall and chunky piece of earth.

Somehow, after everything, his ponytail is still intact, just like the two's clothes, save for Zuko's sleeves. This directs Nari's attention from her pain and to her hair, specifically the two baby hair bang-like pieces that curl inwards. They scratch against her forehead, sticking to it in a mix of salty sea water and salty sweat-- Nari slicks them back into her ponytail with hopes of them staying. They don't. Puffing out her lips in a pout, she pushes herself up more, adjusting to her wounds and the positions they feel best in. "And that plan you're talkin' bout.. what's that?" She says through a serious of grunts and winces, simplifying her words before focusing back to Zuko.