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His tail was reluctant to release her leg, and reacted instinctively by twining further along it while she silently struggled to free herself. Her movements soon grew to the point that they woke Thom, but he merely cracked an eye, watching her in amusement and fighting a smile while he pretended to sleep. He was sore... The soreness one received after a long work out. But it wasn't unbearable. Indeed, he was just happy that his leg was no longer twitching. A bit of soreness he could deal with.

Poor Natsumi had given up and, from his odd perspective, seemed positively terrified, which took all of the fun out of the situation. Yawning widely as he 'awoke', he stretched his arms out over his head. After blinking twice, he glanced over to her, quirked a brow, then looked down to his tail around her leg, hastily unwrapping it. There. He was a good boy, see? "Sorry about that."

"Nah, it's fine." He waved away her apology, yawning and sitting up. "Still a bit sore, but much better, thanks." He quirked a brow at the sudden departure, chuckling softly and shaking his head. He was in a surprisingly good mood for having changed the night before. Between realizing that he could still walk and the amusing situation to which he'd awakened, the day was off to a fairly good start.

Yawning once more, he shifted to swing his legs off the bed, making as if to stand, but almost immediately sinking back down. In that brief instant he was awake completely, staring across the room at the wall. One foot was flat on the floor...one wasn't. But by the way he was sitting, both should be. Both feet should be on the floor.

His good mood was gone, eyes dull and unblinking as he stared across the room. As long as he didn't look, there was a chance. His leg felt normal. Perhaps his foot was just asleep. That was all. He couldn't feel it. Yeah, that had to be it... Where was the floor..? As long as he didn't look, both legs were still normal...

Natsumi was back, was speaking to him. Thankful for the distraction, he glanced over, but his frown only deepened when she paused. The hesitation was unmistakable, as was her expression. For a brief moment he met her eyes, only to pull his gaze away with a sigh and glance down towards his legs. Might as well see the damage.

For a long moment he was silent, staring down at the deformed leg as if he expected it to pop off and be right as rain beneath it. When no change was forthcoming, he took a deep breath, exhaled slowly and, again thankful for the chance of subject, nodded. One hand rose to grab the headboard of the bed, and between bracing himself on that and the aid of his still relatively whole right foot was able to stand.

But from there, he wasn't the least bit sure what to do. His left foot, if it could even be called that, hung a good distance from the floor. Pride demanded that he make the walk on his own. Reality insisted that such a feat, at least at this point, was impossible.

The silence stretched on, and Thom hardly moved while he debated his next action. However, when she offered her arm, he snapped from his daze, straightening up. Cracking a smile of thanks, he nonetheless waved away the offer, making his way across the floor in a series of short hops. It was ungainly at best, but the TV wasn't far and the DVDs were on top of it, so he could risk the attempt.

Reaching the TV, he braced himself with one hand, flipping open the case and removing the first DVD with the other. Once everything was set and running, he returned to the bed in the same manner, gesuring for Natsumi to do the same. Once he was relatively comfortable once more, he retrieved the remote and hit play. And the first match began.

Sadly, it was not. From the start things began a downward spiral. There was the usual prematch banter, announcers discussing the odds of the match to be played while the teams warmed up. The opening ceremonies would begin shortly, da da, da da, and on. And then there was a brief announcement, and as one the crowd rose for a moment of silence. A moment in honor, it was explained, of the six members of the British team who had perished in a bus wreck not long before, of the others who had been killed or injured in the accident. The names ran along the screen, Thom's among the first six. And then, after a short while, the crowd sat and, on a much more subdued note, the match began.

Thom didn't move from the moment the announcement began, and even after it passed it was some minutes before he reacted. He took a deep, somewhat shakey breath, leaning back against his pillow and turning his gaze towards the ceiling, eyes unusually bright...

He took another shakey breath, exhaling slowly, and closed his eyes against what looked suspiciously like a tear. However, he masked it with a bitter chuckled, letting his head loll back against the wall, though his eyes remained closed. "That's just th' final blow, isn't it? 'Alf th' team's dead, th' other 'alf'll never play again--I was th' lucky one. I was th' ruddy lucky one, and 'ere I am spendin' the rest of my bloody life on some island with one leg 'alf th' size it should be."

Sitting up suddenly, he reopened his eyes and clicked off the game. Maybe he would watch it later. Now? Now he wanted to walk. His eyes scanned the room, searching for a makeshift crutch.

Who had been on that list? He couldn't remember exactly.. Aaron? No, Aaron was alive. Aaron was alive, but injured to the point that he would never play football again. As was Thom. But he was sure, if they had both been back home, the first challenge following the fight would be to be the first to walk again. And in honor of his friend...he was going to win that challenge.

He couldn't walk on his own just yet... He needed something to help him relearn. A crutch or a cane of some sort. His possessions were terribly limited. He hadn't exactly packed for the island, much less known he would need something to aid his walking. Maybe he could break one of the legs off the table...

The hug startled him back to the present and, his focus lost, allowed the reality of what had taken place to set in once more. His friends were dead. He was presumed dead. He couldn't walk. There was no going back. Pride held him still for only seconds before he gave in and returned the hug, eyes reclosing as he ducked his head. He wasn't crying, of course! Just...fighting the urge to..and only sort of failing...