[ it’s funny how one little conversation—granted, one little conversation after the world was destroyed and he was murdered at the other party’s hands in a separate incident—can change dextera’s regard. rather than anger, he feels defeat creeping in, and he sinks to sit down with his chin resting on his knees as he gazes over amos’ mundane memory.
these are his people. they don’t seem bad. dextera couldn’t possibly know and he likely never will with amos’ attitude toward the past, but it says something about amos. doesn’t it? what does it say? ]
…you saw him.
[ the archangel, his “person.” ]
You’re living for yours. In your own way. I understand. But mine…
no subject
these are his people. they don’t seem bad. dextera couldn’t possibly know and he likely never will with amos’ attitude toward the past, but it says something about amos. doesn’t it? what does it say? ]
…you saw him.
[ the archangel, his “person.” ]
You’re living for yours. In your own way. I understand. But mine…