His approach is soft, but I hear the steps regardless. It does not take the ascended's heightened senses to do this however, for the night is silent and the snow crisp.
I do not turn, though I have heard him. "In some senses of the word, yes. In other senses, no." I reply simply, eyes for only the Spire and what it holds. What it means.
In another time, another scene, I might look to him, moonlight in my eyes and snow falling softly on hair almost as pale as his own, offer a smile and a friendship might bloom. Or perhaps some untoward monsters might approach and therein we find ourselves back to back in some heroic overtures. Instead, there is only oxygen and snow and perhaps confusion between us, but I pay it no mind. Despite the near-eternity that awaits me, still I have little time for such things.
I do not turn, though I have heard him. "In some senses of the word, yes. In other senses, no." I reply simply, eyes for only the Spire and what it holds. What it means.
In another time, another scene, I might look to him, moonlight in my eyes and snow falling softly on hair almost as pale as his own, offer a smile and a friendship might bloom. Or perhaps some untoward monsters might approach and therein we find ourselves back to back in some heroic overtures. Instead, there is only oxygen and snow and perhaps confusion between us, but I pay it no mind. Despite the near-eternity that awaits me, still I have little time for such things.
