Leander's leaning back, using what weight he has to make up for what his arms alone cannot do. In the woods, in Rivain, he was stronger—he could do more of what cannot be accomplished by grace alone—but since then he's had easier living, he's been bled nearly to death, he's still recovering. And so his legs, too, strain against the sodden weight of water and woman and clothes and equipment—and he already knows what he will do with them, how to save it all, how to save her. Skate blades wedged among the reeds, pressing deeper. Hand over hand, one glove at a time.
no subject
"Kick!"
Leander's leaning back, using what weight he has to make up for what his arms alone cannot do. In the woods, in Rivain, he was stronger—he could do more of what cannot be accomplished by grace alone—but since then he's had easier living, he's been bled nearly to death, he's still recovering. And so his legs, too, strain against the sodden weight of water and woman and clothes and equipment—and he already knows what he will do with them, how to save it all, how to save her. Skate blades wedged among the reeds, pressing deeper. Hand over hand, one glove at a time.
"Kick hard, pull yourself out—that's it—"