"—and the fungi, you see, had arranged themselves in a perfect logarithmic spiral along the trunk! Nature's—"
The words trail off somewhere behind his teeth.
"...Ah, but I digress! Forgive the tangent—you were saying?"
His smile doesn't falter.
His hand drifts to Nugget's head.
#ICReflection
A thought flutters like a page half-read, longing to leap from the elezen's lips.
Words that never reach air.
They remain stillborn, cradled gently by the silence, like a book softly closed at dusk—
with nary a soul privy to the ache that lies within his aether.
#aurelius_lore | #ICReflection
He does not remember the back of their heads moving away from the clinic.
Only that they did.
And so he dries his hands and reaches for the next file.
#casra_lore | #ICReflection
The chirurgeon’s eyes linger on his stained and dripping gloves.
His ears have long since grown accustomed to the sound of the faucet and the scent of antiseptic wafting through the air.
The wooden chair does not creak as he sits, silenced by his postural restraint.
#casra_lore | #ICReflection
