For a while after, Myla chatters to them, and then to Iselda when she comes by with more food.
The Knight finally remembers to place a Dream Gate off at the edge of the room, since they don't know if anything will happen if someone else stands on it. Probably not, but they'd prefer not to risk it.
They're content. But that doesn't mean they forgot what just happened to them. A letter had worked--somewhat--to explain their situation before. They may as well try again.
So they try.
And again.
And again, until Myla stumbles off the couch to settle back-to-back and chat at them soothingly, and they realize they're surrounded by papers they crumpled and destroyed in their intensity to get it just right.
They likely can't. There isn't a just right for this.
They should just be...straightforward. Truthful. Even if it hurts to write. She already struck them with her lack of understanding, what's one more? At least this time they'll be more prepared for it.
For a while, they stop, and listen to Myla wind into a song until they calm.
They buy some fresh paper from Iselda, and, after one more letter, requests she watch Myla for a while.
Stealth is considered, but there's no point.
They call the Stag, and direct him to the Resting Grounds.
There, in a blur, they launch their way up to the top and nearly fling their curled-up paper somewhere in the direction of Seer's dwelling. Their anxiety reaches a peak; they don't even look and see if she's awake, or alone, or anything at all before they spin away and dart to hide beneath the platform.
The Knight has the Dream Nail clenched tight in their paw, ready to disappear back to Dirtmouth in an instant.
1/2
The Knight finally remembers to place a Dream Gate off at the edge of the room, since they don't know if anything will happen if someone else stands on it. Probably not, but they'd prefer not to risk it.
They're content. But that doesn't mean they forgot what just happened to them. A letter had worked--somewhat--to explain their situation before. They may as well try again.
So they try.
And again.
And again, until Myla stumbles off the couch to settle back-to-back and chat at them soothingly, and they realize they're surrounded by papers they crumpled and destroyed in their intensity to get it just right.
They likely can't. There isn't a just right for this.
They should just be...straightforward. Truthful. Even if it hurts to write. She already struck them with her lack of understanding, what's one more? At least this time they'll be more prepared for it.
For a while, they stop, and listen to Myla wind into a song until they calm.
They buy some fresh paper from Iselda, and, after one more letter, requests she watch Myla for a while.
Stealth is considered, but there's no point.
They call the Stag, and direct him to the Resting Grounds.
There, in a blur, they launch their way up to the top and nearly fling their curled-up paper somewhere in the direction of Seer's dwelling. Their anxiety reaches a peak; they don't even look and see if she's awake, or alone, or anything at all before they spin away and dart to hide beneath the platform.
The Knight has the Dream Nail clenched tight in their paw, ready to disappear back to Dirtmouth in an instant.
They should. They should go--
They wait, to hear if anyone comes out to get it.