[It's not hard to get comfortable in a place like this. The ground is soft, covered in damp leaves and moss. Flower buds peek out here and there from behind rocks. The trees ringing the clearing are tall and list to one side; the way their branches grow around one another has always given the shade the impression of something large all fitted around him, spiraling upward.]
[In the distant center of the clearing, there's a hint of red. Never mind that for now. Already Firo has seen quite enough of it.]
[For the shade, though, comfort is the last thing on his mind. This has been true for some time, but in this moment it couldn't be more so.]
Those kids are dead. That man is dead.
[The shade wants very much to shudder. He feels as if he ought to. If he has any control over this body the fingers would tighten for a second, automatically; maybe he only feels as if they should. The shadows around, in any case - those can shudder, and they do. The thought which accompanies the motion is the most certain his thoughts have been since he awoke, and the feeling which carries them is accusation. Why mention it? Why ask? Gone things.]
no subject
[In the distant center of the clearing, there's a hint of red. Never mind that for now. Already Firo has seen quite enough of it.]
[For the shade, though, comfort is the last thing on his mind. This has been true for some time, but in this moment it couldn't be more so.]
Those kids are dead. That man is dead.
[The shade wants very much to shudder. He feels as if he ought to. If he has any control over this body the fingers would tighten for a second, automatically; maybe he only feels as if they should. The shadows around, in any case - those can shudder, and they do. The thought which accompanies the motion is the most certain his thoughts have been since he awoke, and the feeling which carries them is accusation. Why mention it? Why ask? Gone things.]