[Ronan swears loudly as Gansey tries to shove at the door and he crashes against it in turn, adding what strength he has before they can finally get the damn thing open. It's a rush of movement to get inside, to slam the door shut again, to hear the cat hissing angrily from the other side. He listens against the wood, but after things quiet down, it's impossible to tell whether or not it's still out there. They can explore this place or wait for as long as they can bear, but sooner or later they'll probably have to take their chances with leaving.
The monster probably wouldn't wait that long, though.
Feeling is starting to return to more of Ronan's limbs, and he looks toward Gansey at the question, though it's obvious that he has no intention of answering it. He's quiet for a moment too long, staring, as if any second now, Gansey would dissolve into pieces and reveal that it hadn't been him at all.
It's what he's expecting, anyway. He's not dreaming, he doesn't dream about lightning cats or this fucking cave, he knows he's in reality, but at the same time-]
How long have you been here?
[The blood on Gansey's hands hasn't escaped his notice, nor has the general dirt and grime on his normally-immaculate appearance. He feels, at once, an immense wave of guilt for somehow not knowing that their king had returned, for not rushing to him immediately and helping him earlier. It seems stupid now, but some childish part of him had assumed that the knowledge of Gansey's presence would have been instinct, an awareness that transcends a simple flesh and blood friendship. He's startled to find that he was wrong.]
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The monster probably wouldn't wait that long, though.
Feeling is starting to return to more of Ronan's limbs, and he looks toward Gansey at the question, though it's obvious that he has no intention of answering it. He's quiet for a moment too long, staring, as if any second now, Gansey would dissolve into pieces and reveal that it hadn't been him at all.
It's what he's expecting, anyway. He's not dreaming, he doesn't dream about lightning cats or this fucking cave, he knows he's in reality, but at the same time-]
How long have you been here?
[The blood on Gansey's hands hasn't escaped his notice, nor has the general dirt and grime on his normally-immaculate appearance. He feels, at once, an immense wave of guilt for somehow not knowing that their king had returned, for not rushing to him immediately and helping him earlier. It seems stupid now, but some childish part of him had assumed that the knowledge of Gansey's presence would have been instinct, an awareness that transcends a simple flesh and blood friendship. He's startled to find that he was wrong.]