[ Talking's not much his forte, and even his prior sentiment sits strange in his chest now that he's said it aloud, not used to expressing himself outside a fight. He'll only ever follow one person, and he hasn't heard his voice in so long that it makes his whole body feel tight and awful when he thinks about it. Like he's just been existing in that moment when he'd learned of his death.
He'd intended to just follow, life meaningless to him because he hadn't been able to save the one thing he cared about, and then — Darma.
Now, here.
Quietly, he picks up his cup, offering it aside for a toast Chuuya earned. He can be taught. ]
no subject
He'd intended to just follow, life meaningless to him because he hadn't been able to save the one thing he cared about, and then — Darma.
Now, here.
Quietly, he picks up his cup, offering it aside for a toast Chuuya earned. He can be taught. ]
Yeah, thanks. I'll remember it.