[Hp]cross

There was a hand pressing on his shoulder, the heel of the palm pressing on his collarbone. He was not sure when he broke free from the other restraint, but now he could move both hands. He was truly half-held in a person's arms, with his head lying on the side of the person's legs, and his face almost buried in the other person's abdomen. He could feel his body that was supposed to be curled up in a sudden panic attack being opened little by little and patted gently until it relaxed. He could only smell the smell of blood and tears, but these smells were unexpectedly not sharp in his arms. The man's other hand was weakly covering the back of his head. It was not a caress, but as his body twitched and trembled, and was led to a gentle and soothing rocking, his hair kept hitting the other person's hand. It was so soft and soft that often just by turning around the side of the boiling cauldron, the greasy hair would stick to the leather and be hooked, causing another painful contraction to pull and sting. Concept: He was lifted out of the river of death, the blood on his body was wiped off, and his wounds were filled with new flesh and blood. Why was he not a newborn in this world?