[ Reigniting the flame without Sypha is easier said than done. The weight at his feet is immense, but somehow he finds the flint and steel, striking one against the other until something catches. The wrong thing. From the smell, he can tell it's one of the furs that line the ground.
It'll do. Reaching out blindly, he finds the edges of the fire pit and tosses the fur into it, waiting for the light to spread across the room. ]
The sun will rise. The sun will always rise.
[ He whispers it, the belief that fuels Leon, until a pale face is visible close to the fire. Light glints off armour as he struggles to materialise in the darkness. ]
no subject
It'll do. Reaching out blindly, he finds the edges of the fire pit and tosses the fur into it, waiting for the light to spread across the room. ]
The sun will rise. The sun will always rise.
[ He whispers it, the belief that fuels Leon, until a pale face is visible close to the fire. Light glints off armour as he struggles to materialise in the darkness. ]