Snow Cecil was exhausted. He wished he could say he kept himself focused throughout the fatigue. But as it was, all he can hear were the tones of rage, then terror; his eyes had been closed to the White Rabbit's form being revealed to be more unnatural than it was before. [i]I've reached the limits of my knowledge[/i], he thought in terror greater than fear for his life. He fell to his knees, panting, hyperventilating as he opened his eyes. [I]This should be my time. I should be working through every hint and deducing a stable conclusion from the vaguest of hints.[/i] 

Tears fell. [i]I let a person die on my watch, yet I can't even let his death mean something by deducing [b]why[/b] he died.[/i]

Wounded pride mingled with fresh grief as Snow shuddered, opening his mouth soundlessly. [i]I can't speak, I can't speak at all![/i] He tried to look at the White Rabbit, and thought: [i]Was this the magic I was thinking of exploiting just a few minutes ago?! If so, why isn't my brain working to do so?! I should be responding to everyone's concerns, I should be thinking up answers and providing them! I should be providing solace![/i] But he could not; all he can do was try and pick himself up. But the moment Snow tried to get up on his right leg, he shuddered again, and sought something to support him. 

He couldn't find it. Snow Cecil fell again, this time, he had to catch himself with his hands; looking like he was kneeling on all fours. The weeping continued, and words finally escaped his mouth. 

"I am so weak." He wept, wept for the young man who had died while he lived, and wept [i]from[/i] the realization that he was limited like everyone else.

[@CriticalHit][@Windstormugly][@Suku][@Avant][@Etranger][@Duoya][@Petulant][@EchoicChamber][@CronicCrystalis][@The Jest]