Neron
the wind breathes lonely
longing to be seen
longing to be seen
”Thank you,” he mumbles, accepting the hand that slips into his own and the arm around his shoulder to lead him. While the going is clumsy and tough, and the way the blurred world slides around him makes him feel a little nauseated, Neron shakes his head to inform Morgan that the pace is just fine. The sooner he’s inside and away from all of the undoubtedly wonderful dangers that the Fangs pose, the better.
Eventually Morgan loosens her grip, but the same can’t be said for Neron; already his cheeks are flushed again, and his gaze would likely be unfocused even if he couldn’t see well. ”No,” he says, almost apologetically. ”I don’t know if going to see her will help. I don’t even know if any of the other Ascended are sick. Perhaps this is just my punishment.” Though for what, he couldn’t even begin to speculate these days. ”Just stay with me, if you would. At least until we are back at the Citadel.”
Eventually Morgan loosens her grip, but the same can’t be said for Neron; already his cheeks are flushed again, and his gaze would likely be unfocused even if he couldn’t see well. ”No,” he says, almost apologetically. ”I don’t know if going to see her will help. I don’t even know if any of the other Ascended are sick. Perhaps this is just my punishment.” Though for what, he couldn’t even begin to speculate these days. ”Just stay with me, if you would. At least until we are back at the Citadel.”
sometimes the soul
has days like these
has days like these
