Ouroboros Spine the limbed and headed machine of pain

A flood.

Makan was not a swimmer.

His eyes returned to the boy and it was with as much confusion as it was...hurt, perhaps, was the best word for it. As if he felt accused for having left.

Not...leave. He managed to get out of the clenched depths of his throat. Shame dripped to his voice even with its ungodly pitch. Only see more Moonglow. He told the smoky young man.

Perhaps that would...soothe whatever discomfort Makan felt, whatever the boy meant with his string of words.