Lonely shadows following me
Lonely ghosts come a-calling
Lonely ghosts come a-calling
He kept his distance, did not invade her space more than necessary to hear what she said without shouting. And he did listen, with rapt attenion, something almost desperate in the way he followed her telling.
It was something he had been tempted to do many times in the past. Just fly off, go where the wind took him. But there were always things to tie him down, and he could never do it. Not even now; too many would try to stop him if he made to leave now. With LongNight approaching, where would he go? Would his wings carry all the way to the portal before he died? Would a mountain cave tide him over in the bitter cold? Even if he set out with the intent to live out there, would he be able to? Allowed to?
"What gave you balance?" he asked, tensely awaiting the answer. "You failed, and you returned. You're definitely in control now, so... what changed?"
He squeezed the seashell between fingers that were growing cold even in this warmed up room. It was heated for exercise, not conversations at standstill. Yet he didn't move, only listened. Hoping for something, anything, that might give him a clue on what to do with himself.
It was something he had been tempted to do many times in the past. Just fly off, go where the wind took him. But there were always things to tie him down, and he could never do it. Not even now; too many would try to stop him if he made to leave now. With LongNight approaching, where would he go? Would his wings carry all the way to the portal before he died? Would a mountain cave tide him over in the bitter cold? Even if he set out with the intent to live out there, would he be able to? Allowed to?
"What gave you balance?" he asked, tensely awaiting the answer. "You failed, and you returned. You're definitely in control now, so... what changed?"
He squeezed the seashell between fingers that were growing cold even in this warmed up room. It was heated for exercise, not conversations at standstill. Yet he didn't move, only listened. Hoping for something, anything, that might give him a clue on what to do with himself.
Thousand voices dead at my feet
Now I'm gone, now I'm gone, now I'm gone
Now I'm gone, now I'm gone, now I'm gone
