[She asks him for a tale as if she likes stories, when in fact, she does not. Even from a young age, Hayame had seen the falsehood and exaggerated magnificence of such things as pointless, longed for something real to aspire for instead… even when her brother had asked her for them, she had sent him back to his stall alone without one more often than not.
But it was something to do. Something to fill the air to make it seem like there could be a reason she was letting this impudent human who was suddenly six years older (older than her, now), lean shamelessly against her side. Something that wasn’t the weakness of craving another’s warmth in the cold loss of an Oracle they didn’t understand.]
no subject
But it was something to do. Something to fill the air to make it seem like there could be a reason she was letting this impudent human who was suddenly six years older (older than her, now), lean shamelessly against her side. Something that wasn’t the weakness of craving another’s warmth in the cold loss of an Oracle they didn’t understand.]
That one, then. A desert.
[Not that she knew what that truly was.]