[ dextera wonders if these are his true feelings exposed, or some inkling twisted by the current status of the tree. nothing is well among them, after all. ]
The god before me did, too.
[ he doesn’t want to think about his own potential loss. he never wants to let go of those things—or perhaps he does, losing himself to the kind of freedom than only madness can bring. it’s hard to say. it’s impossible to choose. ]
no subject
The god before me did, too.
[ he doesn’t want to think about his own potential loss. he never wants to let go of those things—or perhaps he does, losing himself to the kind of freedom than only madness can bring. it’s hard to say. it’s impossible to choose. ]
But I… I wish I could have helped her.