[ he's parsing estinien's words, but his answers are automatic, stock replies that fall easily off of his tongue without thought; it's a long developed response made habit by being a leader of men. ]
We must make haste. There is no time.
[ every moment wastes is a moment in his father's favor, a step closer to his goal, to whatever terrible thing he is planning in the name of justice and protection. already a thousand threads of thought are roiling in his mind and he is chasing them relentlessly, his gaze unfocused and distant even as he turns to move past them all, back into the vault again, so they may navigate their way out.
and it is a long trek indeed through the vault and into the pillows and down, down to the forgotten knight again. it is a long trek and with every step the ache comes back to his body, the numbness fading at long last until he can feel every bruise and welt and scrape, his cracked ribs protesting, and his gait is awkward, limping, but he will not accept help. not in this. he has been beaten down in all other ways - failed in his attempt to persuade his father, failed in his attempt to stop his escape, failed in his ability to set hot on his trail immediately -- this, at least, is something that aymeric has control over, however small, however trivial. he will stand on his own two feet, if he has to claw his way back to the brume on hands and knees. already he has leaned too much on others, and though he values his own dignity far less than many, there is only so much shame he can suffer in one blow. ]
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[ he's parsing estinien's words, but his answers are automatic, stock replies that fall easily off of his tongue without thought; it's a long developed response made habit by being a leader of men. ]
We must make haste. There is no time.
[ every moment wastes is a moment in his father's favor, a step closer to his goal, to whatever terrible thing he is planning in the name of justice and protection. already a thousand threads of thought are roiling in his mind and he is chasing them relentlessly, his gaze unfocused and distant even as he turns to move past them all, back into the vault again, so they may navigate their way out.
and it is a long trek indeed through the vault and into the pillows and down, down to the forgotten knight again. it is a long trek and with every step the ache comes back to his body, the numbness fading at long last until he can feel every bruise and welt and scrape, his cracked ribs protesting, and his gait is awkward, limping, but he will not accept help. not in this. he has been beaten down in all other ways - failed in his attempt to persuade his father, failed in his attempt to stop his escape, failed in his ability to set hot on his trail immediately -- this, at least, is something that aymeric has control over, however small, however trivial. he will stand on his own two feet, if he has to claw his way back to the brume on hands and knees. already he has leaned too much on others, and though he values his own dignity far less than many, there is only so much shame he can suffer in one blow. ]