[ oh, if only zephir knew how close his pondering comes to touching reality. back home, there is a collection, dwindling now that he's tried so many times. resources burned through, in tribute to something greater, should he ever succeed in a way that's acceptable to him. back home, he has what one might call a shrine to his most prized possession - but it's not moths that litter the floor at his feet. it's bones and hair and human teeth.
what does he do with them? adam wets his lips, a slow swipe of his tongue as he, again, wonders if zephir's question is loaded, or innocent. as he wonders how much it matters. ]
... I learn. [ he pauses here, glass-like blue eyes shifting back and forth between zephir's. ] And I begin again.
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what does he do with them? adam wets his lips, a slow swipe of his tongue as he, again, wonders if zephir's question is loaded, or innocent. as he wonders how much it matters. ]
... I learn. [ he pauses here, glass-like blue eyes shifting back and forth between zephir's. ] And I begin again.