Laskt stumbled through the streets of Seretei, his ankles still slightly weakened from the utter severing of the tendons that drove them forward. It had been days since his battle with the Snake Hollow in the world of the living, but the Shinigami was still feeling the aftereffects of the fight. His spine had more cracks and fractures in it then vertebrae as a combination of the constriction and being brutally thrown against a concrete wall, and his muscles had been severely strained by their contest in strength. However, after a few days of physical therapy and healing, he was finally mobile once again, although perhaps not quite whole.
The Shinigami stumbled into a nearby establishment, ordering a small meal and pulling up a second chair to rest his feet upon, taking the pressure off his newly-healed ankles. As he settled himself, the Shinigami’s hand brushed his zanpaktou’s hilt, resting his fingers lightly against the hilt before letting it slide back into the scabbard. His confidence had been almost totally shot by his encounter with the Hollow, and he had been almost afraid to try and fight since. Perhaps he should take a few days off, simply give himself time to calm down and heal properly. For now however, Laskt retrieved a small book from his robes, opening it and beginning to read, attempting to quiet the storm in his mind.