[For once, it's a relief to be so thoroughly wrong. He listens with his tongue between his teeth to stop an instinctive outburst, recognizing in himself that tendency to fuss--
How little he needs to do that over beings older than his entire world. Especially when they've so much grace and certainty about things that fill him with instinctive horror.]
Ilúvatar, [quiet, respectful, testing the alien name on his tongue,] who Made you. [There are questions he'd ask if the situation were less dire; questions he's not sure would be answered.]
"Dreams made flesh," you said; you were drawn to us across the Fade and given shape. But something's sickened you and begun to eat away at that... [It trails off; there's a quiet oath as he wracks his brain once more. This is a piece--
But they're missing so many others.] Damn. It means something--it has to.
no subject
How little he needs to do that over beings older than his entire world. Especially when they've so much grace and certainty about things that fill him with instinctive horror.]
Ilúvatar, [quiet, respectful, testing the alien name on his tongue,] who Made you. [There are questions he'd ask if the situation were less dire; questions he's not sure would be answered.]
"Dreams made flesh," you said; you were drawn to us across the Fade and given shape. But something's sickened you and begun to eat away at that... [It trails off; there's a quiet oath as he wracks his brain once more. This is a piece--
But they're missing so many others.] Damn. It means something--it has to.