His head had bumped her knee on their collective-but-separate ways down.
...Rather, he would hope that had been her knee, but he had no real way to know for sure. He'd had less of a distance to fall, and had far less trouble about tucking his elbows in and saving his face from an intimate introduction to the dirt and river mud, though his feet had slid under him and dangled with the tips of his shoes grazing the water.
With much of himself still resting on his forearms, he lifted his head and winced after-the-fact, seeing Chloe too had taken a spill on account of him. He tried, too, to not think too hard on having hit her knee or...whatever it was. His face was redder again.
As for it? He quickly dropped his gaze to seek out her foot, very grateful to have something to look for instead of simply looking like a fool.
"Uh, it'sss...not there," he reported, having spotted the little pucker of red where the leech had latched on.
Because I grabbed it.
Realization settled on his face. And it's still in my hand.
Grimacing, he rolled onto his side and opened up the hand in question, exposing a black-and-red, gooey mess of an ex-parasite. Ew.
"It's dead. I think." And that was a relief. No postmortem squirming or gurgling was going on, either, which was an even better sign. He seemed much more relieved than grossed out by that pont.
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His head had bumped her knee on their collective-but-separate ways down.
...Rather, he would hope that had been her knee, but he had no real way to know for sure. He'd had less of a distance to fall, and had far less trouble about tucking his elbows in and saving his face from an intimate introduction to the dirt and river mud, though his feet had slid under him and dangled with the tips of his shoes grazing the water.
With much of himself still resting on his forearms, he lifted his head and winced after-the-fact, seeing Chloe too had taken a spill on account of him. He tried, too, to not think too hard on having hit her knee or...whatever it was. His face was redder again.
As for it? He quickly dropped his gaze to seek out her foot, very grateful to have something to look for instead of simply looking like a fool.
"Uh, it'sss...not there," he reported, having spotted the little pucker of red where the leech had latched on.
Because I grabbed it.
Realization settled on his face. And it's still in my hand.
Grimacing, he rolled onto his side and opened up the hand in question, exposing a black-and-red, gooey mess of an ex-parasite. Ew.
"It's dead. I think." And that was a relief. No postmortem squirming or gurgling was going on, either, which was an even better sign. He seemed much more relieved than grossed out by that pont.