"There was water. Belova gave us water," Winter grinds out, unsure if he can even unlatch his hands from around his head to take the bottle. Or if he wouldn't manage to crush it if he tried. "I need. I need." What does he need? He needs to not hurt. He needs to not be so damn big.
He pries one hand away, but uses it to push himself unsteadily to his feet. To try and look around.
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He pries one hand away, but uses it to push himself unsteadily to his feet. To try and look around.