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Heat emanates from the river of lava, burning as it brushes across Zoya's skin, pausing at the wound on her thigh, sinking red-hot teeth into her tender flesh. She winces as it ripples across her face and turns into Greef's chest.
"The ferry droid is fried," Din observes as they approach the boat, hovering beside the edge of the platform.
"Yeah, but if we push the boat out, we can get it to float downstream," says Greef, and shifts Zoya. "Can you balance on Cara for a moment?"
She nods, because there's no way she'll force him to keep holding her. "No sweat."
Carefully, he lowers her feet to the floor beside Cara, allowing her to balance precariously, gripping the other woman's shoulder a little too tightly—Cara winces. "You okay?" Zoya keeps the grimace from twisting her features as Greef watches her cautiously, muffling the searing sensation that swells in her chest underneath a tight smile. "Come on," Greef says to Din as he turns away.
"Looks old," Din mutters, watching Greef as he kneels beside the ancient looking raft. "Will it take the heat?"
"You got a better idea?"
"Guess not."
Without further ado, he drops low beside Greef, shoving his hands into the side of the boat. They both grunt as their feet skid on the ground behind them, the only sign that they're trying to do anything at all. Cara snorts underneath her breath, shifting a bit to loosen Zoya's deathlike grip on her shoulder.
"They look ridiculous," she says.
Zoya can't muffle her laugh, but the two men don't hear it anyway. "You're right," she says, then pauses, brow wrinkling as she glances up at Cara. "Wait. Isn't it me that's supposed to make the jokes here?"
Cara shrugs nonchalantly, but she can't stop her lips from twitching. "You weren't saying anything."
"Push!" Greef yells, fracturing their lighthearted moment.
Din shoves himself away from the boat as his temper rises, and in an instant, he's slamming his foot into the side of it with a dull clang, groaning in frustration. As he turns away, Greef throws a look up at him, confused.
