[The sound of Dorian's voice, the sweetness of the melody draws another sheen of tears to Orym's eyes. Predathos can't possibly understand it, couldn't possibly guess at how powerful something so simple could be. But Orym can feel it, a fragile, fleeting tether to Dorian, to his own self -- or at least what's left of it.
The timeless, ancient entity bristles in its confusion, but Orym follows the notes of that song long enough to surface, to take a free and clear breath. He moves forward, winding his arms around Dorian tightly, a trembling in the way his arms hold to him.]
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2023-05-23 05:11 am (UTC)The timeless, ancient entity bristles in its confusion, but Orym follows the notes of that song long enough to surface, to take a free and clear breath. He moves forward, winding his arms around Dorian tightly, a trembling in the way his arms hold to him.]
I'm sorry, Dorian. I'm so sorry.