[The mesmeric shape of the light in the confines of the tent canvas plays like a shaded lantern from between her fingers. It isn't a matter of seeing it, but feeling it—the sensation of vibrant sunlight shifting on the other side of a pane of glass to which he has his cheek pressed, the presence full enough that he is aware of the warmth. Here in Horizon, it's so near that he might almost reach out and touch the shape of it himself. Consequently, the urge to do so is quiet and remote. In this place, where he may glut himself on the arcane, starving impulses are at their least powerful.
Still, he isn't without appetite. Even a sated animal finds the scent of a meal appealing. So there is something intent in his study of her, eagerly parsing where she begins and Horizon ends. It's a complicated subject—the two things being as close knit as consequences are to actions.
no subject
Still, he isn't without appetite. Even a sated animal finds the scent of a meal appealing. So there is something intent in his study of her, eagerly parsing where she begins and Horizon ends. It's a complicated subject—the two things being as close knit as consequences are to actions.
Luckily, he is practiced with this study.]
What did you hope to achieve by repairing it?