The thing is, this isn't the worst he's been hit. Bancroft practically putting a leash and collar on him, that was worse. The Wei Clinic, that was far worse. This is...
He is quiet, retreating into himself. Anger is movement, but everything else gets pulled in backward, hidden between the songspire branches. Dead noise of a dying race.
"Not always like this," he murmurs under his breath, before toeing off his shoes on the little mat by the door. There isn't much to his cabin, but he seems comfortable with it, sitting on the floor before the table. The angles of his long legs point up and out; he doesn't bother to sit respectfully. She wouldn't notice.
a charming name for it.
He is quiet, retreating into himself. Anger is movement, but everything else gets pulled in backward, hidden between the songspire branches. Dead noise of a dying race.
"Not always like this," he murmurs under his breath, before toeing off his shoes on the little mat by the door. There isn't much to his cabin, but he seems comfortable with it, sitting on the floor before the table. The angles of his long legs point up and out; he doesn't bother to sit respectfully. She wouldn't notice.
A long exhale.