[ It's faint, this voice carried on the wind. It whips around him, each word coming as if from a different direction, confusing to make out at first but coalescing after a few moments of concentration into a sentence. A question echoing his.
A woman's voice. He cannot place it with all the interference from the noise around him and the far distance it seems to travel, but he's quite sure (probably) that he didn't imagine it.
Or maybe he's just thoroughly losing his mind at last.
Rhy decides to risk it. He grabs onto that strand of hope and holds on tight. ]
I can hear you. [ He's yells out again, turning one way and then another, trying to figure out if the voice is coming from a certain direction so he can look for the source. ]
no subject
A woman's voice. He cannot place it with all the interference from the noise around him and the far distance it seems to travel, but he's quite sure (probably) that he didn't imagine it.
Or maybe he's just thoroughly losing his mind at last.
Rhy decides to risk it. He grabs onto that strand of hope and holds on tight. ]
I can hear you. [ He's yells out again, turning one way and then another, trying to figure out if the voice is coming from a certain direction so he can look for the source. ]
Keep talking. Please. Where are you?