[This feeling will go soon. Become condensed, to the point it hardly matters. Or maybe it matters more that way. When days become seconds at a time. Just the impression of feelings and flashes of images. What would remain? Nothing but snow and this feeling of. Of something he can't name.]
Oh? [A head tilt. Interest. Something close to it.] And how did your battles go?
[Returning a favor. Or at least returning a question.
When everything crushes together, what will remain of this conversation? What feeling would stay? Or would they all fade away, lost to the spaces between flashes.]
no subject
Oh? [A head tilt. Interest. Something close to it.] And how did your battles go?
[Returning a favor. Or at least returning a question.
When everything crushes together, what will remain of this conversation? What feeling would stay? Or would they all fade away, lost to the spaces between flashes.]