A'turius wondered who the blonde haired male miqo'te who cooked at the Bismarck was. Who was the short browned haired miqo'te? Was she the same? The one from his dreams?
It seemed like Mr. Steele knew who he was. His words sparked of familiarity. but why hadn't he said anything? Was it the disguise?
The miqo'te rubbed at his forehead, a dull residual pain.
Why was it paining him so? Why... could he not let go of his past, the one he knew nothing of?
Why?
Who was he?
But it was then that he crumpled in pain.
It seemed like Mr. Steele knew who he was. His words sparked of familiarity. but why hadn't he said anything? Was it the disguise?
The miqo'te rubbed at his forehead, a dull residual pain.
Why was it paining him so? Why... could he not let go of his past, the one he knew nothing of?
Why?
Who was he?
But it was then that he crumpled in pain.