[ dextera smells it before he sees it, but he doesn’t know what it is—just that there’s a light, floral scent on the breeze, and it’s soothing in a way not many things in this town are. there are plants brushing against his ankles, and when guren guides him to open his eyes, he immediately, embarrassingly, gasps. ]
I—?
[ his voice is there, too, small and private and hidden but there, like the sight of it all has made him momentarily forget his trauma. his pain.
he doesn’t let go of guren’s hand, and looks quickly to guren as if to reassure himself that this is for him.
guren didn’t make a mistake? he didn’t intend to take someone else out here? ]
no subject
I—?
[ his voice is there, too, small and private and hidden but there, like the sight of it all has made him momentarily forget his trauma. his pain.
he doesn’t let go of guren’s hand, and looks quickly to guren as if to reassure himself that this is for him.
guren didn’t make a mistake? he didn’t intend to take someone else out here? ]