[ They listen to that voice, crackling with the flicker of flame, with rapt attention. It might be reminiscent of the Wyrm's empty stare, but what similarities are there are rapidly becoming superficial.
(It is a story, in its own way. They soak up stories like the empty canvas they are, like coloured ink in water, and become dyed with it.)
They tilt their head at the mention of a dance. They're familiar with the idea - with both meanings of a dance they have learned so far, in their time here. They wonder which one it is that he means to ask them for.
Rather than answer with their newfound voice, the nail flashes into existence in their hand, quick as thought, because they turn to combat first above all (knowing little else in their life before now). A perfect copy of the weapon they wield in reality, because they have little room in their head for what does not exist in some manner.
(It does not have to dwell in the realm of the physical to be real, of course. But the fact remains that their weapon is not the usual type of thing one would imagine in their dreams.)
They hold it loosely at their side and look up at him, inquisitive. Is this what he means? Is this what he wants? ]
no subject
(It is a story, in its own way. They soak up stories like the empty canvas they are, like coloured ink in water, and become dyed with it.)
They tilt their head at the mention of a dance. They're familiar with the idea - with both meanings of a dance they have learned so far, in their time here. They wonder which one it is that he means to ask them for.
Rather than answer with their newfound voice, the nail flashes into existence in their hand, quick as thought, because they turn to combat first above all (knowing little else in their life before now). A perfect copy of the weapon they wield in reality, because they have little room in their head for what does not exist in some manner.
(It does not have to dwell in the realm of the physical to be real, of course. But the fact remains that their weapon is not the usual type of thing one would imagine in their dreams.)
They hold it loosely at their side and look up at him, inquisitive. Is this what he means? Is this what he wants? ]