Raylan's cowboy boots couldn't provide grip on a level surface. By that was beside the point.
Both of them were good at their job because they were dogged, stubborn, persistent assholes who did not know the meaning of the word quit until it had punched them in the face twenty or thirty times. Tack that on to Tim's Ranger levels of stubborn, the training that said go forward! when all he wanted to do was retreat and the younger marshal was still hell bent on his climb.
"Wait here!" He shouted back, muscles straining as he purposefully forced himself higher and slightly off to the side, out of reach. "I'll find a safe route for you to follow!"
That was his job after all and damn it he was not quitting in the face of this asshole town! Gritting his teeth Tim went further still, growling under his breath as he cursed Mathias roundly. It was after he had put together a particularly graphic string of physical impossibilities that the storm surge crashed upwards and the wind whipped up to an almost unnatural strength.
Like a hand reaching down to spank Tim specifically, the wind gust caught him in the chest and threw him back down towards the reach of the tide below. Sit.Down.Son.
Training kicked in when Tim hit the water. He breathed out through his nose to keep water from rushing up into his sinuses and immediately opened his eyes to orient himself upwards. Beneath the surface it was strangely quiet, compared to above and a small part of Tim thought it wouldn't be the worst thing to stay in the quiet. He quickly decided that was Mathias talking and with an inward growl he kicked and pulled with powerful motions.
His head broke the surface well before he felt a burn in his lungs but Tim took a quick breath all the same. His eyes burned from the salt but a push from the tide, threw him forward far enough that his feet brushed rocky bottom. Good, he hadn't fallen too far out, he could do this.
Snarling through clenched teeth, the younger marshal pitted his body against the tide, fighting his way back to land. It was touch and go, Tim refusing to admit that he was tiring with a quickness, when a wave came in behind him. The wave was powerful enough to throw him towards the shore. That was the good news. The bad news was the power also slammed him into the rocks, hard enough to steal his breath as he was briefly pinned.
Tim felt his body start to tumble back into the water when a second surge lifted him up like a ragdoll and then pummeled him down into the shoreline. Like an unfortunate sock in the wash, the water pounded down across his body with bruising force, before the tide rolled him across the rough bottom, eventually spitting him out on the beach close to the Gull.
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Both of them were good at their job because they were dogged, stubborn, persistent assholes who did not know the meaning of the word quit until it had punched them in the face twenty or thirty times. Tack that on to Tim's Ranger levels of stubborn, the training that said go forward! when all he wanted to do was retreat and the younger marshal was still hell bent on his climb.
"Wait here!" He shouted back, muscles straining as he purposefully forced himself higher and slightly off to the side, out of reach. "I'll find a safe route for you to follow!"
That was his job after all and damn it he was not quitting in the face of this asshole town! Gritting his teeth Tim went further still, growling under his breath as he cursed Mathias roundly. It was after he had put together a particularly graphic string of physical impossibilities that the storm surge crashed upwards and the wind whipped up to an almost unnatural strength.
Like a hand reaching down to spank Tim specifically, the wind gust caught him in the chest and threw him back down towards the reach of the tide below. Sit.Down.Son.
Training kicked in when Tim hit the water. He breathed out through his nose to keep water from rushing up into his sinuses and immediately opened his eyes to orient himself upwards. Beneath the surface it was strangely quiet, compared to above and a small part of Tim thought it wouldn't be the worst thing to stay in the quiet. He quickly decided that was Mathias talking and with an inward growl he kicked and pulled with powerful motions.
His head broke the surface well before he felt a burn in his lungs but Tim took a quick breath all the same. His eyes burned from the salt but a push from the tide, threw him forward far enough that his feet brushed rocky bottom. Good, he hadn't fallen too far out, he could do this.
Snarling through clenched teeth, the younger marshal pitted his body against the tide, fighting his way back to land. It was touch and go, Tim refusing to admit that he was tiring with a quickness, when a wave came in behind him. The wave was powerful enough to throw him towards the shore. That was the good news. The bad news was the power also slammed him into the rocks, hard enough to steal his breath as he was briefly pinned.
Tim felt his body start to tumble back into the water when a second surge lifted him up like a ragdoll and then pummeled him down into the shoreline. Like an unfortunate sock in the wash, the water pounded down across his body with bruising force, before the tide rolled him across the rough bottom, eventually spitting him out on the beach close to the Gull.