CHULANE
why do things happen with no reason or rhyme?
why does it feel like we're running out of time?
why does it feel like we're running out of time?
He had a new appreciation for why, during Deepfrost, Korbin had hit the drink so hard. It was… tempting. To lose oneself in the bottle, to let it burn down the back of his throat, to try and numb the numbness that was consuming him.
But while it was tempting, he resisted the urge, sticking to the softer stuff, to cider and water. Food was… something of an afterthought to him these days. He ate enough to get by, but there was a certain pallor to him, a gauntness caused by sleepless nights and… everything else.
His mind whirled with thoughts, but nothing ever seemed to reach a conclusion. He was adrift in a sea of uncertainty - he had a plan to follow before, a life to build, to live. And now? Without Kia? Without his anchor, his lifeline, his support?
He sighed, leaning over the bar. He saw her everywhere - they had dined together over in the corner table. They had wept together at the bar after Weaver had died. They had laughed together on a night where drinking and frivolity had been had to lighten up spirits in the midst of Deepfrost.
The memories burned against the membrane of his mind, scorching a torturous path against his nerves, to the point where he overcompensated in his self-preservation behaviour of trying not to feel at all, only instead of putting on a happy front, he wore no emotion at all.
But while it was tempting, he resisted the urge, sticking to the softer stuff, to cider and water. Food was… something of an afterthought to him these days. He ate enough to get by, but there was a certain pallor to him, a gauntness caused by sleepless nights and… everything else.
His mind whirled with thoughts, but nothing ever seemed to reach a conclusion. He was adrift in a sea of uncertainty - he had a plan to follow before, a life to build, to live. And now? Without Kia? Without his anchor, his lifeline, his support?
He sighed, leaning over the bar. He saw her everywhere - they had dined together over in the corner table. They had wept together at the bar after Weaver had died. They had laughed together on a night where drinking and frivolity had been had to lighten up spirits in the midst of Deepfrost.
The memories burned against the membrane of his mind, scorching a torturous path against his nerves, to the point where he overcompensated in his self-preservation behaviour of trying not to feel at all, only instead of putting on a happy front, he wore no emotion at all.
how do we keep going, through the dark?
why are we here at all, lost in the dark?
why are we here at all, lost in the dark?
