Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-25808351-20190114001113/@comment-30014014-20190203053724

Did he sleep? Probably, though anyone wandering in his room would find difficulty, seeing how Prad is sitting on the edge of his bed, staring at the outside under the shelter of his shroud. Nothing breaks the silence but the wind leaking from the outside.

His hands had recovered through other means than a visit to the nursery. He sits in a hunched manner, alone with his thoughts. His ears can filter the flicker of the two non-presences in his room, tethered to the two side of the door. Drifters. Waiting for anything to stumble about in their unending twitches.