some by virtue fall; any

[Kushiel]

Kushiel squinted into the sun with blinking, bloodshot eyes. His mouth was dry, and the large stallion opened and closed it several times. He groaned. His head heard, his whole body hurt. With a little bit of trepidation, Kushiel looked back at the sky. It was nearly midday. He groaned again. Damn, where had the time gone?

With no small amount of struggle, Kushiel found his feet. He bumped and collided with the tree at this back on his way up, but eventually found his to standing. He had sworn, time and time again, that he wasn’t going to keep doing this. He was way, way too old for this shit. But no, as it had been before and would be again, he had been lulled by the flames, by the tantalizing way they played along his body, the way they devoured wood and grass. He’d gotten lost in them, and far into the night he had burned.

Now, it the harsh light of day, he was paying the price.

Kushiel tried not to think about what his mother would say if she saw him like this. He tried not to think about was Straia would say. Probably nothing, of course, for she wouldn’t stoop to scold him, but he didn’t like to imagine the way her eyes would settle on him. Kushiel made a visible effort to pull himself together. He stretched his neck, he tried to work the kinks out of his back. He took a few staggering steps, closed his eyes with a groan, then took a few more.

Yes, he was way, way, too old for this.