[ Compelled by the gesture, one that reminds him of what it was that accompanied his own set of numbers, Banagher averts his gaze to Casval's own, scrawled out in the dust. If he's intimidated by the single-minded path Casval speaks of and intends to walk with all his bearing before him, he does a decent job hiding it. ]
Maybe it's not really empty.
[ Of course he felt it, despite his answer. The kind of literal emptiness that rippled through him: that, for a brief moment, had made him privy to what seemed like the sound of someone else's heart rooted deep in his chest. In its place rose knowledge without origin, and from there, something like a tree with so many branches. Convoluted, difficult to navigate, and undeniably linked at some kind of center. ]
no subject
Maybe it's not really empty.
[ Of course he felt it, despite his answer. The kind of literal emptiness that rippled through him: that, for a brief moment, had made him privy to what seemed like the sound of someone else's heart rooted deep in his chest. In its place rose knowledge without origin, and from there, something like a tree with so many branches. Convoluted, difficult to navigate, and undeniably linked at some kind of center. ]