full moon rising on the waters of my soul
Amun’s eyes closed, but that didn’t matter, because he could still see; as soon as his fangs had touched whatever substance made up The Voice, he found himself transported and transfixed, cast into a virtual sky by a wave of what he could only describe as bliss and peace and oneness, but that’s just because he lacked the words to do it justice. He couldn’t tell what world it was that he was gazing upon. If it was Caido, it was parts of it he’d never seen or heard of. Then again, he supposed it didn’t matter.
As The Voice unveiled the endless possibilities before him, he turned his hungry thoughts and mind to her. ”How?” He wasn’t sure if he was actually speaking, given how he thought his mouth was still buried in the goddess’ wrist, but hopefully she’d understand all the same. And he burned with the need to know the answer to that question, more than anything he’d ever wanted before. While he couldn’t get back what he’d lost, maybe that was okay.
Maybe he could be better. Perfection. He was an artist, and he had just found out he was a blank canvas. Of course he was going to want to do something with it.
As The Voice unveiled the endless possibilities before him, he turned his hungry thoughts and mind to her. ”How?” He wasn’t sure if he was actually speaking, given how he thought his mouth was still buried in the goddess’ wrist, but hopefully she’d understand all the same. And he burned with the need to know the answer to that question, more than anything he’d ever wanted before. While he couldn’t get back what he’d lost, maybe that was okay.
Maybe he could be better. Perfection. He was an artist, and he had just found out he was a blank canvas. Of course he was going to want to do something with it.
amun
