(no subject)

[lt-naraht.livejournal.com]

There is a sound of motors echoing down the stairway. Naraht soon appears riding his crawler. Those who are familiar with the Horta's contraption might notice that his driving isn't quite as smooth as it usually is. They might also notice that his skin looks different. Rather like he's been given a light coat of dust.

And Naraht feels as bad (possibly worse) than he looks. Failing to find Ray upstairs, he has come down to see if he can find any help.

He has a sinking suspicion that he's going to need it.

Comments

[faithful-slayer.livejournal.com]

"As far as I know, you're the only silicon-based...being...we have," Faith says with a shrug. "I'll ask around and make sure, though."

[gone_byebye]

Ray exhales. "Thank you," he says soberly. He'd pat naraht on the shoulder if the Horta had them.

[lt-naraht.livejournal.com]

"Let me just get on my vehicle," he says, glideing over a little wobbly. "I have trouble with stairs even when healthy."

He manages to pull himself onto the platform...and seems to have a little difficulty establishing his neuro-links. "Damn it...there. First Mother, if this is what being sick is like, I dont' know how you carbon-based people survive."

[gone_byebye]

"Generally, we start when we're too small to do much in the way of our own locomotion," Ray says. "Babies do a lot of it. We get used to it over time."

[faithful-slayer.livejournal.com]

Sometimes we don't, Faith thinks, but doesn't say.

"Alright. Follow me," she says instead, and leads them into the office (http://www.livejournal.com/community/ways_office/63540.html).