[ adam's confusion only grows - someone else? who is he, and what is his connection to zephir, he wonders - but he doesn't follow up with any follow up question. at least not yet.
instead, his eyes are drawn to the subtle movement of zephir's hand, the moth; the question at hand, pun somewhat intended. adam doesn't answer right away. he contemplates, wonders idly if the question is as simple as it seems, or something deeper. it's clear to him that zephir knows... something about him, the same way adam knows something about zephir - that he's something else, something other. is this merely a question about the moths, or does he know about the dead things he's discarded? the things he's kept.
adam's eyes shift, following the line of zephir's arm up to his shoulder and then from there to his face. he answers simply, vaguely, a low murmur. ]
Only some.
[ only one, actually. but it's the most important one to him thus far. ]
no subject
instead, his eyes are drawn to the subtle movement of zephir's hand, the moth; the question at hand, pun somewhat intended. adam doesn't answer right away. he contemplates, wonders idly if the question is as simple as it seems, or something deeper. it's clear to him that zephir knows... something about him, the same way adam knows something about zephir - that he's something else, something other. is this merely a question about the moths, or does he know about the dead things he's discarded? the things he's kept.
adam's eyes shift, following the line of zephir's arm up to his shoulder and then from there to his face. he answers simply, vaguely, a low murmur. ]
Only some.
[ only one, actually. but it's the most important one to him thus far. ]