Starglow Basin i really tried to stay cool

to soto the green was more special than anything. 

he listened as fiamma’s words punctured their grueling work. at times he favored her tongue, finding similarity in consonants and words — other times, he could not make sense of it. 

she spoke again; a question. he looked to her to convey he did not know. ora. ahora. now?

 soto motions to the distant luneshale. 

their goal. 

their salvation. 

he does not speak again, perhaps frustratingly enough for fiamma, who now had the sole burden of carrying on their exsanguinating conversation.