The more his sister speaks, draws closer, the more confused his mind becomes. What had happened? She had died, he was sure... But she was here, in front of him. She had been... beside him too, hadn't she? In some far off, unfamiliar dream.
But he'd also. The Charmony Festival. She shouldn't be here. There was so much to do.
"What are you doing here...?"
His voice is soft, his heart in his throat. The halovian's eyes are wide, unbelieving. Fearful. She didn't deserve this. Not to be this awful place. Not to see him like this, filthy and miserable. Sunday's hands tremble, and tears sting at the corners of his eyes.
"I.. I don't understand what this is. Where we are. Why you're... With me."
His mind made even less sense of this than anything else that had happened so far. Something about all of this seemed so. Wrong. Things were not supposed to turn out this way. Why was his sister here? She needed to leave. Before... Before what?
Some part of Sunday was so sure Robin didn't belong here, that she was... That everything was out of alignment, out of place. Disorderly. The thought makes his skin crawl, his feathers fanning out. He tries to shake away the thought, but it lingers and sets teeth into him. This was wrong, this was incorrect, Robin wasn't... She shouldn't... He'd failed, somehow, someway, hadn't he?
He'd pulled her into this prison with him.
Sunday steps forward, reaching for her. If he could touch her. If he could know that she was real and here. Not a ghost, not something fake, conjured up by the vessel itself... Maybe he could still...
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The more his sister speaks, draws closer, the more confused his mind becomes. What had happened? She had died, he was sure... But she was here, in front of him. She had been... beside him too, hadn't she? In some far off, unfamiliar dream.
But he'd also. The Charmony Festival. She shouldn't be here. There was so much to do.
"What are you doing here...?"
His voice is soft, his heart in his throat. The halovian's eyes are wide, unbelieving. Fearful. She didn't deserve this. Not to be this awful place. Not to see him like this, filthy and miserable. Sunday's hands tremble, and tears sting at the corners of his eyes.
"I.. I don't understand what this is. Where we are. Why you're... With me."
His mind made even less sense of this than anything else that had happened so far. Something about all of this seemed so. Wrong. Things were not supposed to turn out this way. Why was his sister here? She needed to leave. Before... Before what?
Some part of Sunday was so sure Robin didn't belong here, that she was... That everything was out of alignment, out of place. Disorderly. The thought makes his skin crawl, his feathers fanning out. He tries to shake away the thought, but it lingers and sets teeth into him. This was wrong, this was incorrect, Robin wasn't... She shouldn't... He'd failed, somehow, someway, hadn't he?
He'd pulled her into this prison with him.
Sunday steps forward, reaching for her. If he could touch her. If he could know that she was real and here. Not a ghost, not something fake, conjured up by the vessel itself... Maybe he could still...
"Robin... Sister..."
Forgive me.