Speechless, Etna's face fell into an awkward stare. He looked awful; covered in cuts and caked in blood, which it seems he'd managed to work into his bed covers while asleep (great).
Her mouth agape and her mind rushing, she tried to summon something to say or do; maybe how he got here or why he didn't feel the need to announce his arrival. Or maybe she should be debating whether to pick up her other boot and wing it at the magically reappearing prince or to wait for a full explanation, then wing both boots.
But she didn't choose either and she still didn't speak. Instead, she read a thousand hours of dialog in Laharl's own eyes.
He was happy now, but tired and something was still distinctly wrong or broken. Like an old pocket watch, Laharl's eyes seemed rusted and run ragged; His springs were losing their grip and his porcelain facade cracked. There was an overwhelming sadness, but Laharl was still ticking. Which was all that mattered, they could iron anything else out later, so long as Laharl was still ticking.
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Her mouth agape and her mind rushing, she tried to summon something to say or do; maybe how he got here or why he didn't feel the need to announce his arrival.
Or maybe she should be debating whether to pick up her other boot and wing it at the magically reappearing prince or to wait for a full explanation, then wing both boots.
But she didn't choose either and she still didn't speak. Instead, she read a thousand hours of dialog in Laharl's own eyes.
He was happy now, but tired and something was still distinctly wrong or broken.
Like an old pocket watch, Laharl's eyes seemed rusted and run ragged; His springs were losing their grip and his porcelain facade cracked. There was an overwhelming sadness, but Laharl was still ticking. Which was all that mattered, they could iron anything else out later, so long as Laharl was still ticking.