Got the dreamer's disease
Erebos' name is one she repeats silently to herself, trying to cement it in as she swallows her bite of bread. It definitely needs butter, and she reaches out for one of the little balls of it next, mashing it into the remainder of her roll like it's a secret she's tucking into the baked dough. "I'm from Torchline," she pips easily, taking a fresh bite of the much more lubricated and tasty buttered bread now. She proffers him a smile through the chewing, shuffling further down the lane of the buffet to the drinks. The hibiscus tea calls her name, and she fills a cup.
"What about you, Erebos?" She uses his name intentionally, the act of saying it further helping lock it in. The need less from faulty memory as it is aligning facts together with certainty. She doesn't want to misplace who he is. "Have you ever been to this, festival before? I was told Mort will release someone to visit us, based on the lanterns." The idea widens her eyes a touch, although the true weight of it is lost on her. Not because she hasn't already seen some of the natural deaths in the world, watching the sear cat hunt and eat birds by her house, but because the deaths don't touch her yet in a meaningful way. She doesn't know any of the names behind the lanterns strung up, or what it is to wish someone had never been taken.
"What about you, Erebos?" She uses his name intentionally, the act of saying it further helping lock it in. The need less from faulty memory as it is aligning facts together with certainty. She doesn't want to misplace who he is. "Have you ever been to this, festival before? I was told Mort will release someone to visit us, based on the lanterns." The idea widens her eyes a touch, although the true weight of it is lost on her. Not because she hasn't already seen some of the natural deaths in the world, watching the sear cat hunt and eat birds by her house, but because the deaths don't touch her yet in a meaningful way. She doesn't know any of the names behind the lanterns strung up, or what it is to wish someone had never been taken.
Fern
This world is gonna pull through, don't give up
