Week 1, Thursday - Ion the Nicer

[melancoffeea]

[It's nearly time, and Sandalphon has long retired to the room he shares with Ion. His back to the door, he sits on the edge of the bed in a forward slouch. A small but noticeable number of beautiful white feathers line the floor here and there. When he hears the telltale sounds of someone's—Ion's—entering the room, he poses a question without looking up.]

Do you see anything?

Comments

[melancoffeea]

[At that, he smiles wryly. His answer is less an act of evasion and more along the lines of sincerity.]

There isn't much to know.

Enough about me. How is everything?

[In other words, has Ion done anything of note since yesterday?]