[He scrabbles upright. The motion is unsteady; his head is spinning, lurching, and that strip of light is the only sense he has of the difference between up and down. His limbs feel—wrong.
More wrong. This is already not normal, even though it's—even though he's been here before. In this shape.]
—Hey.
[His tail coils restlessly behind him, writhing like a snake. But ignoring that, staying focused—Gladion reaches an arm up through the gap and clumsily grasps the edge of a frond, pulling himself up.]
no subject
Rindo—
[He scrabbles upright. The motion is unsteady; his head is spinning, lurching, and that strip of light is the only sense he has of the difference between up and down. His limbs feel—wrong.
More wrong. This is already not normal, even though it's—even though he's been here before. In this shape.]
—Hey.
[His tail coils restlessly behind him, writhing like a snake. But ignoring that, staying focused—Gladion reaches an arm up through the gap and clumsily grasps the edge of a frond, pulling himself up.]