The echoes of his heart beat, the shakiness of his breathing, the whispers of the trees, the air silently howling by him, were all nothing compared to the sight he visualizes, as his converses come to a stop the moment he sees Scott on the dirt path of the Reserve. His shirt stained with fresh blood, subconsciously clutching the flesh wound in his ribs, while blood mixed with wolfsbane cascades from his mouth, skin flushed with sweat while his eyes were closed, inhaling shallow breaths.
The sight of his own classmate -- Scott McCall -- like this, gave Seraph unwanted dejá vú, one that resurfaces abruptly, the memories he fights hard not to remember. Scott's unconscious and near death form reminds him of his grandfather's dying form...so Seraph, for the first time in his life, acts without thinking, and sprints towards him in a desperate manner.
Seraph did not want history to repeat itself.
Let's keep this going. No Pressure Tags: @rhyslahey @mmoosen @thiamsxbitch @hemlocksandfoxgloves @arewordsenough @scisac @unsanedes @moonraeken @isaac-not-isaac @chasing-chimeras
If you don't see me in the lab at Los Guachimontones the next few days it is because I am going to New Orleans to present a paper at the annual Society for American Archaeology conference. But instead of presenting a paper on West Mexico, my paper is on archaeology and video game preservation. Specifically, how archaeology can help save historic video games from being lost forever. I'll be back on Friday!