Dextera shakes his head—and then seems to realize the gravity of the question, as the memory of that dream prickles at the back of his mind.
He wipes away the word with a sweep of his hand, leaving nothing in its place. His world is gone. Really, it already was, but the sense of finality to it all weighs heavy in his chest.
no subject
He wipes away the word with a sweep of his hand, leaving nothing in its place. His world is gone. Really, it already was, but the sense of finality to it all weighs heavy in his chest.