He doesn't know how long he spends sitting at the base of the Tree, staring at the spot on the ground where Dokja's shard lies nestled under layers of dirt. Five minutes, an hour, hard to say. Eventually he rouses himself from his listless staring, pulling his thoughts together enough so that he can send out a brief message. ]
Dokja's dead. [ Again.
No 'hi', no 'how are you'. He's not in the mood for such banalities right now. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
communion; early september
Date: 2023-09-15 02:00 pm (UTC)He doesn't know how long he spends sitting at the base of the Tree, staring at the spot on the ground where Dokja's shard lies nestled under layers of dirt. Five minutes, an hour, hard to say. Eventually he rouses himself from his listless staring, pulling his thoughts together enough so that he can send out a brief message. ]
Dokja's dead. [ Again.
No 'hi', no 'how are you'. He's not in the mood for such banalities right now. ]