[Her voice cuts through his crystalline gaze, he looks to her. A drop in his shoulders, as he realizes what she means. The soft pout of his mouth presses small, his eyes round with worry. When he speaks, it's a rushed murmur — his eyes dart to the guards and their whips whenever his consonants clip too loudly.]
If there's more of, [a wince,] those suffering like us, maybe we'll outnumber the guards.
[Desperate for a silver lining. The extraordinary opportunity for failure doesn't seem to daunt him, even as the variables don't balance in his favor. The nearing silhouettes seemed just as dazed, just as scared, just as perturbed as most of them. Hardly the elements of an uprising.
Pulling at the left sleeve of his white gown, he offers a small smile,] I'm Jayce.
no subject
If there's more of, [a wince,] those suffering like us, maybe we'll outnumber the guards.
[Desperate for a silver lining. The extraordinary opportunity for failure doesn't seem to daunt him, even as the variables don't balance in his favor. The nearing silhouettes seemed just as dazed, just as scared, just as perturbed as most of them. Hardly the elements of an uprising.
Pulling at the left sleeve of his white gown, he offers a small smile,] I'm Jayce.