There are details lost in translation: The dimension wasn't originally his, that it was a cowardly attempt to escape an already miserable state of affairs in his home universe. The bizarre surreality of seeing (another version of) himself snuffed out by something utterly mundane. Looking at the body. Lying to Gabriella, even though he loved her more than anything else. Realizing his selfish intervening had been the reason for the collapse. It was his fault. It was all his fault.
His teeth are clenched together as the guilt surges up like a geyser, masseter tensed at the jaw. There is a little copper taste on his tongue from the fangs. He decides he prefers the blood to having any of the words reach his mouth. Dan seemed to understand, but at the same time, seemed impossibly distant.
"I didn't plan anything out." His voice is quiet, like he was admitting something shameful. "I'll have to see what would be best to put together. They deserve to be remembered."
Miguel opens his hand, releasing the wooden birdshape from chitin talons. He turns it around with his fingertips, and gets to work shaving out a very basic wing shape. In TRN-660, Mourning Doves thrived in the parks of Nueva York after they were reintroduced.
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His teeth are clenched together as the guilt surges up like a geyser, masseter tensed at the jaw. There is a little copper taste on his tongue from the fangs. He decides he prefers the blood to having any of the words reach his mouth. Dan seemed to understand, but at the same time, seemed impossibly distant.
"I didn't plan anything out." His voice is quiet, like he was admitting something shameful. "I'll have to see what would be best to put together. They deserve to be remembered."
Miguel opens his hand, releasing the wooden birdshape from chitin talons. He turns it around with his fingertips, and gets to work shaving out a very basic wing shape. In TRN-660, Mourning Doves thrived in the parks of Nueva York after they were reintroduced.
"What are the boxes for?" he asks idly.