[Inias looks up at the sudden advancement, though he doesn't become tense in return. He simply watches, quiet and passive, though he does fold his wings a little closer against himself -- instinctive, maybe, at the thought of being in chains. Locked up.
All angels are claustrophobic. Being locked away is, indeed, the worst feeling in the world.
Still, seeing the wastelands of Heaven, and hundreds of his siblings slaughtered -- being responsible for that is something Inias is never going to forget or forgive himself for. But arguing with someone who has every right to be angry is pointless and so Inias returns his attention to the blade of grass.]
I am sorry, that was insensitive.
[Murmured.]
Burden of guilt is not a contest. I should not make it one.
no subject
All angels are claustrophobic. Being locked away is, indeed, the worst feeling in the world.
Still, seeing the wastelands of Heaven, and hundreds of his siblings slaughtered -- being responsible for that is something Inias is never going to forget or forgive himself for. But arguing with someone who has every right to be angry is pointless and so Inias returns his attention to the blade of grass.]
I am sorry, that was insensitive.
[Murmured.]
Burden of guilt is not a contest. I should not make it one.