[ It's okay that their captors are on the taciturn end. Matt needs the time to think. His existential dread spirals in reticulating layers, each new realization washing over him and ossifying onto the one before it like a--
Well--
Not unlike a crystal.
He remembers a dream that felt like communion, being one with the heart of all things, and he remembers a dream about fangs sinking into his throat. Then there was an island, and boats with sails like the wings of bright birds. Come to think, the lonely dream may have been the real one, because when he "woke up," term used loosely, there was a shard of crystal embedded in the side of his neck. The left side: V's favorite.
When he finds himself addressed, Matt starts, as if shocked from a train of thought. Which he was--at the moment, it's why did I survive when everyone else is dead. He'd thought he'd found a lonely little section of the stone formation to come and have a crisis, but clearly his observational skills need some work. He frowns at his companion, first in curiosity and then, noting the bruises on his face, in pained sympathy.
Cautiously, quietly, he says: ]
Are they going to kill us?
[ Matt's heard the talk of a ritual space too. In this context, it cannot possibly mean anything good. ]
iii
Well--
Not unlike a crystal.
He remembers a dream that felt like communion, being one with the heart of all things, and he remembers a dream about fangs sinking into his throat. Then there was an island, and boats with sails like the wings of bright birds. Come to think, the lonely dream may have been the real one, because when he "woke up," term used loosely, there was a shard of crystal embedded in the side of his neck. The left side: V's favorite.
When he finds himself addressed, Matt starts, as if shocked from a train of thought. Which he was--at the moment, it's why did I survive when everyone else is dead. He'd thought he'd found a lonely little section of the stone formation to come and have a crisis, but clearly his observational skills need some work. He frowns at his companion, first in curiosity and then, noting the bruises on his face, in pained sympathy.
Cautiously, quietly, he says: ]
Are they going to kill us?
[ Matt's heard the talk of a ritual space too. In this context, it cannot possibly mean anything good. ]