( it's one of those things where he figures that the further away they are from people, the less likely they'll be affected.
and does he really need much, to be affected? the fog of depression is a familiar one, something that it feels like he can sense from a mile away; he can feel the way that his mood sinks, the way that his thoughts start to twist into clouds full of desperate downpour, eager to rain on his life here as though threatening to wash out all the good of it into a mudslide. he figures that kyoko, with all of her strength and intellect, will be more likely to stave it off: he figures that she might be less vulnerable to it than he is, though that doesn't prove to be the case. when the talk about the antidote starts, prompto thinks that it's silly, at first. but if it'll help her, then he wants her to have it; and in the meantime, he'll be waiting out here.
the villages here are tiny: it's almost like being back on the road again, with all the land that stretches out around them, unknown and a little terrifying. he's been camping out like the rest, for as long as he's been here; it's not something he likes to do, but they're sort of out of options, aren't they? when kyoko returns to him, he's poking around at the fire that he's managed to build (all by himself, gladiolus would be proud), forcing it to higher heights; it needs to be enough to keep the tent warm, after all, or at least warm enough until they can fall asleep in it. the sound of her footsteps makes his head perk up with a grin--
--and then it falters for a moment. even in the growing darkness of the evening, her skin looks flushed; her lips look like she's bitten all around them, and he jolts up onto his feet as though that might help the heat from going all the way through him, too. )
What happened? Did you get the thing? ( he sounds--mildly concerned, at least, but he's forcing the smile back up, lifting a hand to offer her a wiggle-fingered wave. ) How do you feel?
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and does he really need much, to be affected? the fog of depression is a familiar one, something that it feels like he can sense from a mile away; he can feel the way that his mood sinks, the way that his thoughts start to twist into clouds full of desperate downpour, eager to rain on his life here as though threatening to wash out all the good of it into a mudslide. he figures that kyoko, with all of her strength and intellect, will be more likely to stave it off: he figures that she might be less vulnerable to it than he is, though that doesn't prove to be the case. when the talk about the antidote starts, prompto thinks that it's silly, at first. but if it'll help her, then he wants her to have it; and in the meantime, he'll be waiting out here.
the villages here are tiny: it's almost like being back on the road again, with all the land that stretches out around them, unknown and a little terrifying. he's been camping out like the rest, for as long as he's been here; it's not something he likes to do, but they're sort of out of options, aren't they? when kyoko returns to him, he's poking around at the fire that he's managed to build (all by himself, gladiolus would be proud), forcing it to higher heights; it needs to be enough to keep the tent warm, after all, or at least warm enough until they can fall asleep in it. the sound of her footsteps makes his head perk up with a grin--
--and then it falters for a moment. even in the growing darkness of the evening, her skin looks flushed; her lips look like she's bitten all around them, and he jolts up onto his feet as though that might help the heat from going all the way through him, too. )
What happened? Did you get the thing? ( he sounds--mildly concerned, at least, but he's forcing the smile back up, lifting a hand to offer her a wiggle-fingered wave. ) How do you feel?