[Orym nods. That, yeah. He takes a long sip of his wine. Then another.]
I don't really put a lot of stock in prophecies or anything.
[Another tightening around his neck, more noticeable this time as if he's being chastised for the words.]
I don't know why it decided to pick us...
[And another constriction. 'Liar.' The halfling can hear the soft, amused accusation echoing in his head. And he can't fault it. Because Orym knows why it picked him. He can't speak for Dorian, but he knows his own heart.]
We'll figure this out. [His voice is starting to sound strained now, breath starting to be a struggle.]
It's fine. [It's not. And the voice of a goddess he never asked to catch the attention of echoes in his head in that same soft amusement. 'It could be, stubborn boy'.] Maybe we can talk some... some sense... into.
no subject
I don't really put a lot of stock in prophecies or anything.
[Another tightening around his neck, more noticeable this time as if he's being chastised for the words.]
I don't know why it decided to pick us...
[And another constriction. 'Liar.' The halfling can hear the soft, amused accusation echoing in his head. And he can't fault it. Because Orym knows why it picked him. He can't speak for Dorian, but he knows his own heart.]
We'll figure this out. [His voice is starting to sound strained now, breath starting to be a struggle.]
It's fine. [It's not. And the voice of a goddess he never asked to catch the attention of echoes in his head in that same soft amusement. 'It could be, stubborn boy'.] Maybe we can talk some... some sense... into.