[Every day, his strength returns to him. He feels more like himself, the legions that had blighted his skin now leaving only, perhaps, the faintest of scars in their wake. And even those have dimmed substantially, just faint lines of white amid his already pale complexion, as time trudges on.
And so, where does that leave them all? To return to their daily routines in the Settlement, falling back in step with the usual cycle? Mundanity to veil them all over again? It would seem so. Henry spent time gardening, of all things, when he first arrived in this world -- and now here he is, hands pressed into the loam of the earth to tend to the things that grow this season, with the enthusiasm of a man who is obligated more than he is entranced by the task itself.
Work to be done in exchange for his privilege to live on these lands. That's all it really is. More roteness for all.
His head turns when someone speaks to him. He stands, walking over with a somewhat placid expression, trying his best to not wipe his hands on his pant legs.]
no subject
And so, where does that leave them all? To return to their daily routines in the Settlement, falling back in step with the usual cycle? Mundanity to veil them all over again? It would seem so. Henry spent time gardening, of all things, when he first arrived in this world -- and now here he is, hands pressed into the loam of the earth to tend to the things that grow this season, with the enthusiasm of a man who is obligated more than he is entranced by the task itself.
Work to be done in exchange for his privilege to live on these lands. That's all it really is. More roteness for all.
His head turns when someone speaks to him. He stands, walking over with a somewhat placid expression, trying his best to not wipe his hands on his pant legs.]
What is it?
[Pretend at curiosity, or concern. This is fine.]