[Her hands will glide across the lumpiness of his shoulder blades, given that Stephen's somehow disoriented himself enough in this blasted place to have fallen face-down onto the ground when she collided into him. It's not his finest moment, but he hasn't been having a lot of those lately, and while his cloak is kind enough to help a familiar face that isnβt him, the sorcerer mutters into the groundβ]
...Wanda.
[Deadpan, vaguely pained. Their usual exchange of greetings.
He doesnβt know whatβs happening, he doesnβt want to push himself up just yet, because despite the dread that is coiling up in his stomach, right now, there is a more immediate problem:]
no subject
...Wanda.
[Deadpan, vaguely pained. Their usual exchange of greetings.
He doesnβt know whatβs happening, he doesnβt want to push himself up just yet, because despite the dread that is coiling up in his stomach, right now, there is a more immediate problem:]
Your knee's pushing into my back.
[Please⦠remove it.]