It's taken a lifetime to lose my way
All the wasted time on my hands turns to sand
Noah’s appearance nearby, and the confusion, seemed to set off a cycle of puzzlement, perplexity, and uncertainty. He could feel it brush up against his Attuned bond, and he immediately straightened out, grew more rigid, as his brows furrowed, frame instinctively searching out the perceived threat. When it only seemed to stem from a misheard notion (for he hadn’t caught any of the latter), the Sword shook his head. Not that I am aware of. I heard dense vegetation, which was why he’d sought out this location.
Shrugging his shoulders at Sah, the Sword continued moving, allowing the Sentinel to answer the inquiry of his own stature and emotions. “Think the echoes distort statements,” was all he could convey by presumption alone, and so he started pointing out the plants nearby instead. “Found a couple of these,” pointing out the scraggly brush, and as they maneuvered onward, there would be more and more, collected in bits and pieces, then patches, somehow managing to survive in the constant press of winter.
Shrugging his shoulders at Sah, the Sword continued moving, allowing the Sentinel to answer the inquiry of his own stature and emotions. “Think the echoes distort statements,” was all he could convey by presumption alone, and so he started pointing out the plants nearby instead. “Found a couple of these,” pointing out the scraggly brush, and as they maneuvered onward, there would be more and more, collected in bits and pieces, then patches, somehow managing to survive in the constant press of winter.
I'm fine in the fire
I feed on the friction
