04 ♥ Action; OTA
[An order to pack. So, then. Things may be going bad soon. The fences... They can't last forever, nothing does. So he's following the orders, packing his warmest clothes in his suitcase. ...Or, rather, all his clothes and the single photograph he owns. Thank goodness for the life of a traveler. However, there are still concerns he has.
A rather rough serious of coughs racks his body, highlighting that fear. He's already to the point where he should be on bed rest. Should being the key words. But this whole thing had come at the absolute wrong time... What happens if they have to suddenly move? Terra can't carry him like he is now. And he can't rely on Terra all the time, anyway.
With a frustrated sigh, Xehanort sits on his bed and ignores the next series of coughs. His door is cracked open, allowing in some of the air from the hallway, and he's played with the hole in the wall between his and his brother's room--made it smoother and more intentional-seeming.]
A rather rough serious of coughs racks his body, highlighting that fear. He's already to the point where he should be on bed rest. Should being the key words. But this whole thing had come at the absolute wrong time... What happens if they have to suddenly move? Terra can't carry him like he is now. And he can't rely on Terra all the time, anyway.
With a frustrated sigh, Xehanort sits on his bed and ignores the next series of coughs. His door is cracked open, allowing in some of the air from the hallway, and he's played with the hole in the wall between his and his brother's room--made it smoother and more intentional-seeming.]