bugath (mydearhosea)
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It had to have been days now. Days since the last time Astarion felt the warmth of the sun on his skin. Days since the last time anybody had spoken a word to him, save for the rattling old carcass that came down to the kennels to check on him each day. Days since he'd seen his companions' faces. Any hope that they'd rescue him dwindled after the first twenty-four hours, leaving him to wonder how he’d developed so much hope in the first place.