[War's surprised when he wakes up. Last time he'd slept for a century. But his sleep is the same. Dark. Empty. He hears a voice, but not what it says. Not at first. But it's clear, one of the few things clear, is that it belongs to young girl. Not, not a demon...they wouldn't-. Unless...
War opens his eyes. Blinks. They wouldn't go this far, even the most deceptive. He sits up with a start, grunts at a stretch, a stab of blunt pain.]
Why...?
[Is this his voice? That breathy, shaking sound? He looks around the room, to his sword and armor. Hunches over, draws his arms above the covers. Close to him. It's true War had wounds, but most were scars. One was new. The mark of impalement. Poison. He hadn't thought it worth care, given how easily the bats were brought down. War looks at the cloth, which had fallen from his forehead into his lap. Damp. New. He takes a breath, slow, steady. Makes a sound to test his voice again. Makes sure it's steady. Strong. Able.]
no subject
War opens his eyes. Blinks. They wouldn't go this far, even the most deceptive. He sits up with a start, grunts at a stretch, a stab of blunt pain.]
Why...?
[Is this his voice? That breathy, shaking sound? He looks around the room, to his sword and armor. Hunches over, draws his arms above the covers. Close to him. It's true War had wounds, but most were scars. One was new. The mark of impalement. Poison. He hadn't thought it worth care, given how easily the bats were brought down. War looks at the cloth, which had fallen from his forehead into his lap. Damp. New. He takes a breath, slow, steady. Makes a sound to test his voice again. Makes sure it's steady. Strong. Able.]
What...what papers do you have?