Neverwinter Forest well, i am the rose you relinquished again

of fornjeska made it feel solid, like a tangible thing, despite that ezra'd been brought to solharr and accepted the offer ... and it was true that he'd temporarily put a hold on finding anselm and gideon in efforts of earning his keep here. it almost forces him to face an uncomfortable truth: that by doing so he was unknowingly tilling land in preparation for placing roots.

abruptly, those thoughts are cut off.

a twitch of his ear is given — annoyance at his own thoughts, at the paths they were leading him down. an attempt to ground him and pull him out of his inner monologue and back to the moment.

i am, he hears himself answering in a voice that his both his and not his. it has his accent, his cadence, his deep timbre but it also holds with it the tenor of Vessel. of Justice's ... or perhaps even Yahweh's guiding hand. that ethereal cord that ties him to something divine, to some mythos beyond himself. persistent. stubborn. unyielding.

i have not been here very long, he admits. vhat about you? ezra asks, eager to shift the conversation to fleur and off of himself lest he be forced to face any other uncomfortable truths about himself that he cannot seem to escape these days.