Or perhaps twang is more accurate, like a guitar string being plucked and reverberating around his chest, his ribs aching with the vibration.
Red Wine is limp and heavy in his arms and his head swims with the weight of what it means. Food Souls don't die, not like this. They fade and vanish back into the ether, waiting to return. And no matter what this place has done to them — the changes to their form, the fact that Steak's shield has vanished — that's what they are...
... Isn't it?
He sucks in a deep, painful breath, and marches on, back to the barracks.
The bond is still there. So Red Wine is still there.
no subject
Stretch
— Snap.
Or perhaps twang is more accurate, like a guitar string being plucked and reverberating around his chest, his ribs aching with the vibration.
Red Wine is limp and heavy in his arms and his head swims with the weight of what it means. Food Souls don't die, not like this. They fade and vanish back into the ether, waiting to return. And no matter what this place has done to them — the changes to their form, the fact that Steak's shield has vanished — that's what they are...
... Isn't it?
He sucks in a deep, painful breath, and marches on, back to the barracks.
The bond is still there. So Red Wine is still there.
That's true. It has to be.