Tav doesn't need a tent, but he sets one up for himself regardless. He drags his bedroll out near the fire, lying on his back and gazing up at the stars. Sure they aren't the stars he recognizes from home, but they are stars nonetheless. The crackle of the fire, the presence of a companion just across the way, the stars overhead. It feels so much like home his eyes begin to sting.
How long has it been since he listened to the bickering of Lae'zel and Shadowheart? Or listened to a lesson on magic from Gale? Perhaps the quanderings of Astarion as he considers whether to kill Cazador or not.
Months. Seven long months, most spent in an isolated room, only allowed out under guard. He's so painfully homesick in this moment that he can't help but reach out to the sorcerer across the way.
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Date: 2024-08-01 11:51 pm (UTC)How long has it been since he listened to the bickering of Lae'zel and Shadowheart? Or listened to a lesson on magic from Gale? Perhaps the quanderings of Astarion as he considers whether to kill Cazador or not.
Months. Seven long months, most spent in an isolated room, only allowed out under guard. He's so painfully homesick in this moment that he can't help but reach out to the sorcerer across the way.
"Strange?" he asks, his voice quiet.