#i didn't choose crossed arms and /lean as my favourite stances they chose me

[myreia]

FEBHYURARY XXV: EMOTE

The night grow long in Mor Dhona when they return from the First. He’d like to chalk it up to his perception, but as time moves differently on the Source, he can’t be for sure. There are many things to adjust to here. The lethargy, the atrophy, all the small ways his body refuses to work after months of lying comatose. Urianger faces the same trials, though it is with no small amount of annoyance that he notices his symptoms are far worse. Krile insists they take it slow. They cannot push themselves. He knows this, and yet it does little to ease his restlessness. More than once, he and Urianger find themselves on the balcony overlooking the plaza. He takes up his customary stance—or, an adjustment of it, since leaning with his back against the wall would likely lead to a collapse—and rests his crossed arms on the railing. Together they watch the aetheryte glow and turn, speaking idly of small things while the crowd hustles and bustles. Aureia is not here. She returned weeks ago to Norvrandt to assist Ryne. They planned to strike out to the Empty together, to finish what was started. He wonders where they must be, what they are doing. They had gotten into the habit of climbing the walkways above the Quadrivium, observing the vibrant greenery and spiraling paths below. Is that where they are now? Perhaps. She will tell him when she returns. The separation stings. It is something he has accepted, but the reality of it still bites. He cannot complain, their time was limited on the First and he knows what it cost to see them home safely. Making his peace with it is a process, one where some days will be easier than others. And so he worries and he waits. There is naught else to be done now. Thankfully he is well-versed at waiting. He waited five years for her on Norvrandt. He can wait as long as he needs to.