[ Don't stare don't stare don't stare it's rude don't stare—

Flynn can't seem to convince himself to look away. What he's seeing doesn't make sense, outside of fairy-stories or— or something, but he can't just stare at this poor man and not help. He remembers Mayoi, limp and red.

Carefully, he picks over a few rocks and some over-eager cacti to get closer, tentative. ]

I'm sure you don't want to get up.

[ turns out, when you're bent on helping someone avoid heat stroke, it's easier to just avoid social decorum altogether. Flynn stands by Vic's side with his mouth turned into a tight little frown and reaches out to gently shake one shoulder. ]

But I promise you the sun won't be worth it, so as tired as you may be, you really do have to get up.