[ They dutifully crouch to inspect this new arrival in their (?) house. (It feels natural, too, that they would live together. They are wanderers, after all.)
For a moment, their own memories take hold. In the shell's spiral curve they see the mounds, feel the weight of the dead, hear the laughing voice of a shaman who knows much more than they.
...What a strange world this is.
They turn their head to smile (it feels strange on their face) at the Drifter. This is a happy dream; they won't disrupt it yet. ]
Oh, a friend |
[ Using the sprite the way the Drifter uses it comes easily to them. Though they lack a voice, even in this ideal world, it feels somewhat natural to write words in the air this way. ]
no subject
For a moment, their own memories take hold. In the shell's spiral curve they see the mounds, feel the weight of the dead, hear the laughing voice of a shaman who knows much more than they.
...What a strange world this is.
They turn their head to smile (it feels strange on their face) at the Drifter. This is a happy dream; they won't disrupt it yet. ]
Oh, a friend |
[ Using the sprite the way the Drifter uses it comes easily to them. Though they lack a voice, even in this ideal world, it feels somewhat natural to write words in the air this way. ]
Are they hungry |
[ What do snails in this place even eat? ]