Neron
the wind breathes lonely
longing to be seen
longing to be seen
”Ah,” Neron says knowledgeably, as if he can remember the slightest thing about what Chuy has just said. He doesn’t, of course, and a curiously young expression overtakes his face at the other man’s next question. Neron’s hand slips into his hood to rub at the back of his neck, the movement highlighting the pearly sheen to his skin. He should not be able to get a fever, but if his friend gets close enough he might even be able to feel the heat radiating from the Ascended.
”I don’t know,” he confesses. ”I think I was... trying to catch the sun? There’s a Fae festival where you need to do that, at LongHeat. Is it LongHeat yet?” He shakes his head, like he might be able to dislodge a thought and make sense of things. ”I’m sorry, Chuy, I can’t quite remember why I’m outside.” He rises to his feet, as if to abandon the man and go right back into the Kraai, but vertigo seizes him and forces him back onto the step.
”Perhaps I should sit down.” As if he isn’t already sitting.
”I don’t know,” he confesses. ”I think I was... trying to catch the sun? There’s a Fae festival where you need to do that, at LongHeat. Is it LongHeat yet?” He shakes his head, like he might be able to dislodge a thought and make sense of things. ”I’m sorry, Chuy, I can’t quite remember why I’m outside.” He rises to his feet, as if to abandon the man and go right back into the Kraai, but vertigo seizes him and forces him back onto the step.
”Perhaps I should sit down.” As if he isn’t already sitting.
sometimes the soul
has days like these
has days like these
