While his head whirled, he adjusted to standing for the first time in four days. Maybe it wasn’t the smartest thing he could do, but he was tired of lying around. He wasn’t used to so much inactivity. Once he could tell his legs wouldn’t collapse, he let go of the bed then took a step. Every muscle in his body protested, yet Lam kept moving. He shuffled across the room to the bathroom where he braced one hand against the wall as he relieved himself. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he washed up then turned to contemplate the distance back to the bed. “Maybe I’ll just rest here for a few minutes,” he muttered, sinking to the floor in the doorway. Pressing his heated face to the cool tiles, Lam took a deep breath. Being mortal was harder than it looked. He’d never been one of those angels who thought mankind was fragile or weak. After having seen all the trials thrown at them through the millenniums, Lam had come to realize they were far more resilient than the angelic realm gave them credit for.
