[His tongue sits shallow behind his fangs. His faintly glowing eyes are sunken under the shadows cast by listless curls; he stares at Leto for the longest second, framing it in his mind like something precious he could lose.
(More than the image. More than its constancy. When even the memory of it can be scrubbed clean and yanked away, it's hard to trust that it can stay.)]
Go back to Thedas....? [Is a hoarse-throated joke. Ultimately prying a degree or two of slant out of the corner of his mouth, but like everything else, it sinks after a beat, and his frown is that much deeper for it.]
....I don't know.
[Feels small. Tired. A lump in his throat where his tongue should be.
Appropriately weak, perhaps.]
All this time. [It's been weeks since the devil's warning in Evereska— what was he thinking? Did he ever have a plan? Did he forget it?] Wasted.
no subject
(More than the image. More than its constancy. When even the memory of it can be scrubbed clean and yanked away, it's hard to trust that it can stay.)]
Go back to Thedas....? [Is a hoarse-throated joke. Ultimately prying a degree or two of slant out of the corner of his mouth, but like everything else, it sinks after a beat, and his frown is that much deeper for it.]
....I don't know.
[Feels small. Tired. A lump in his throat where his tongue should be.
Appropriately weak, perhaps.]
All this time. [It's been weeks since the devil's warning in Evereska— what was he thinking? Did he ever have a plan? Did he forget it?] Wasted.