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Summary
drip... drip... drip...
The stalactite in the corner of Etho’s cell provides a constant repetitive sound, almost like a tick... tick... tick...
Something in it feels familiar. Safe— no...not anymore.
Set deep in the mountain, the dark cell provides no comfort. There is no window to allow for counting the days. There is no sun on outside walls to allow for warmth to seep through the deepslate.
The only thing allowing him to keep the time is the drip... drip... drip...***
or; etho is imprisoned. he has some time to think. he has some visitors.
Series
- Part 6 of ethubs resistance au
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Bookmark Notes:
pov CRYING INTENSEIFIES/pos