Warren woke from the dreamless black and was surprised to see the sun already illuminating his location. He was some malms between Dragonhead and Whitebrim and while his previous day's work had been as frigid and depressing as the rest, he found it odd that he had likely his best night's sleep since the whole ordeal began after bundling down in a hole in the snow he had to dig himself.
Just like where they're sleeping now. Just like your dreams. Black. Empty.
Warren groaned as he ignored the first voice of the morning, his joints aching. The decision to clamber in with armor was not made lightly; Removing it would have wasted precious time and energy better spent resting and recovering. A smaller part of him admitted he wouldn't have had the willpower to undo the many straps and buckles keeping his plate secure after working to the brink of exhaustion. He could work through the complaints his shoulders and knees offered. The wound from the Grindstone throbbed in his mind, a phantom pain looming in his peripherals and threatening to strike. Rinh'a had healed him but he wondered if he had subconsciously rejected the mending. He knew others could do it.
Yeah, but she's dead now. No healing in the world can bring her back from what she's become. Dead. Gone. If you're lucky, you can see her restless body traipsing around as a husk of her former self.
The thought stabbed icy daggers into his heart. As he went about cleaning up his makeshift camp - no fire, no light, no trails or signs of him being there - the torrent continued.
What would you do if you did find them? You know what happens to wayward souls who aren't recovered. You know what they'll become. Could you do it? If you found them trapped in the ice, eyes sunken and hollow, empty? Could you take care of them like that? Do what you know you'd have to do?
Warren listened with his jaw set tight under the facemask. He had been reckless before but wasn't going to risk losing himself to frostbite.
Could you strike them down if they became monsters?
"No time to waste chasing that thought," he murmured to himself. The sun was still rousing but he was behind it already.
Kill your girlfriend? Kill your best friend? Could you do that? Chop them into pieces to make sure, cut off the arms that held you, could you bash in the lips you've kissed, cut out the hearts
"She's not my girlfriend. I'm going to find them, and everything is going to be fine."
For a time, the voices relented.
Just like where they're sleeping now. Just like your dreams. Black. Empty.
Warren groaned as he ignored the first voice of the morning, his joints aching. The decision to clamber in with armor was not made lightly; Removing it would have wasted precious time and energy better spent resting and recovering. A smaller part of him admitted he wouldn't have had the willpower to undo the many straps and buckles keeping his plate secure after working to the brink of exhaustion. He could work through the complaints his shoulders and knees offered. The wound from the Grindstone throbbed in his mind, a phantom pain looming in his peripherals and threatening to strike. Rinh'a had healed him but he wondered if he had subconsciously rejected the mending. He knew others could do it.
Yeah, but she's dead now. No healing in the world can bring her back from what she's become. Dead. Gone. If you're lucky, you can see her restless body traipsing around as a husk of her former self.
The thought stabbed icy daggers into his heart. As he went about cleaning up his makeshift camp - no fire, no light, no trails or signs of him being there - the torrent continued.
What would you do if you did find them? You know what happens to wayward souls who aren't recovered. You know what they'll become. Could you do it? If you found them trapped in the ice, eyes sunken and hollow, empty? Could you take care of them like that? Do what you know you'd have to do?
Warren listened with his jaw set tight under the facemask. He had been reckless before but wasn't going to risk losing himself to frostbite.
Could you strike them down if they became monsters?
"No time to waste chasing that thought," he murmured to himself. The sun was still rousing but he was behind it already.
Kill your girlfriend? Kill your best friend? Could you do that? Chop them into pieces to make sure, cut off the arms that held you, could you bash in the lips you've kissed, cut out the hearts
"She's not my girlfriend. I'm going to find them, and everything is going to be fine."
For a time, the voices relented.
![[Image: yEROfKO.png]](http://i.imgur.com/yEROfKO.png)
