"The New King." |Skybrine|

Chapter 11: Exspectatione

(A/N: Skyenja's cannon!!)

Chapter 6: Exspectatione

I groan, my back definitely becoming sore from holding this position for such a long time. A headache had already formed in my temple, my throat is dry and I was not in the mood for being dizzy at the moment.

Is it okay if I vomit on Mitch's back?

I sighed, though not before gagging afterwards when I realized that simply forcing a bit of air out of your lungs may cause you to puke.

What did I do to deserve this?

How everyone but me, Tyler, Mitch and Jerome, how I never knew what happened to the poor thing, had traveled to different countries, leaving me with a desceased father and a potentially life threatening creature to which I call my dog, and an asshole.

It hurts just thinking about it, really. physically and mentally.

I groan once again, already pressing my full weight against his shoulder by now. He doesn't seem to break a sweat even as he got this extra weight on him. Good for him.

Deciding to play the cat, I crank my neck to get a look at his face. Sure enough, he looked more mature over the past eleven years, even as going as far as having these thick eyebrows that framed his eyes, but he looked more boyish than anything.

How old was he when he started training? Cause if he could just throw a person over one shoulder with an arm, then it must've been around the time when he turned fourteen.

Still, it hurts too much.

mind your own business.

As I averted my eyes somewhere else(which also made the nausea a whole lot worse), I tried to shift in my position, which resulted with a squeeze on my thigh that suggested a very painful warning.

Stopping immediately, I almost let a whimper out, as if I wasn't gonna man up, like my father used to tell me.

I closed my eyes, not really helping my nausea but atleast dulling it. I just--Why?

I suddenly feel a wet nose sniff through my hair, and instantly I reached out and rubbed the back of Rascal's ear, feeling his muzzle press on to my forehead comfortably.

Oh man, I regret everything.

It's already been a few minutes of walking, and I couldn't help but sigh in relief when the pounding was getting lesser and lesser to the point where it wasn't even acknowledgeble. Now I've gotta deal with the soreness and this heat.

I'm not exactly comfortable in this position either. His full iron armour began to boil me.

Breathing in, I cry in the most silent and pathetic way ever known to humanity.

As a random thought, I really should have been thankful for that random hair tie I found on the ground, I swear I might've had a heat stroke if I let my hair trap more heat on my face.

Speaking of heat.

I look back at Mitch and see him not ever sweating or breathing hard, eyes not once leaving the path a head of him. Confused, I found myself looking at our surroundings, and we were definitely in the eleventh district. My eyes widen.

He went this far-

My leg was suddenly free.

I fell, face first, painfully.

Before I could even utter a word, Mitch's sarcastic voice cuts me off.

"You're too heavy. You weigh like the king's bloody father."