[Ademnet holds his breath as he plunges into the pit, digging down as fast as he can manage. The fabric over his face protects his eyes and nose from the worst of it, but the hot sand stings his exposed skin, and the growing pressure and darkness remind him uncomfortably of a grave.
Not my grave, though, and not his. Not today.
His hand brushes Flynn's fingertips, then closes around Flynn's wrist. With nimble fingers, he attacks the bonds holding Flynn down, hoping the man has enough sense to stay calm and not struggle.]
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Not my grave, though, and not his. Not today.
His hand brushes Flynn's fingertips, then closes around Flynn's wrist. With nimble fingers, he attacks the bonds holding Flynn down, hoping the man has enough sense to stay calm and not struggle.]