Nova Peak [m] Cloister of St. Glinda

Helpless.

What good was he? He had never been any.

Yet the warmth that spread like wildfires in his belly at the sight of the man was — something. Maybe not good or helpful, but a reminder that he was alive. That the dancer was too.

Would he soon be sick? Would all of them be?

He moved with quick, strong strides to intercept the dancer. Unsure if he would be allowed to touch that spiritdancer given physical form.

Dagur was desperate for something tangible in the wake of loss.