Yes, [ almost promptly. here, he makes to move and finds his wrists snag back. or, rather, have a time moving forward to lift himself at all. his shoulders won't come up off the bed. for a tick, he tenses all over, stupefied by this reality. under the sticky silk of the webbing, round eyes dart to the silhouette he's certain, hopes, belongs to claude. ]
Claude, I can't— [ his voice is a well, flooding. ] I can't see you, I can't move. Claude! I can't see you!
oh, my.
Claude, I can't— [ his voice is a well, flooding. ] I can't see you, I can't move. Claude! I can't see you!