Jack's always been one to take on a fight (though he ain't hardly won a one of 'em), and he fights back now, kicking and hitting out wildly. They wrestle in a terrible parody of lovers, but the end is the end and that's never changed.
In the end it's still again, nothing moving but grasshoppers and the sun slowly climbing its way down to the plains below (no mountains--must have just been cloudbanks, before), and Jack tastes salt before everything goes dim, bone-tired as he is, and he slips into something like sleep with relief and loose as any rag-doll.
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Jack's always been one to take on a fight (though he ain't hardly won a one of 'em), and he fights back now, kicking and hitting out wildly. They wrestle in a terrible parody of lovers, but the end is the end and that's never changed.
In the end it's still again, nothing moving but grasshoppers and the sun slowly climbing its way down to the plains below (no mountains--must have just been cloudbanks, before), and Jack tastes salt before everything goes dim, bone-tired as he is, and he slips into something like sleep with relief and loose as any rag-doll.