[How is he? He tilts his head as if weighing out an answer.
There are two kinds of drives that he takes around the Horizon. The first is a meditation: the thrumming engine and booming music serve as a backdrop against which to lay out his thoughts. In his solitude, the memory of his brother, a presence in the passenger seat, keeps him company. The second is an escape: he pretends that by goading the gas pedal, he can somehow fly out of himself and leave all thought behind. Sometimes the drive starts as one kind and ends as another.
All of this is to say, Wilhelm has had a lot on his mind lately.]
I'm all right. [The tight shrug is surely convincing. He chews on his lip, looks more at the bike than at Geralt. Almost like it's an afterthought, although it definitely isn't, he adds:] I went back.
[To the island. The pit. The place that connects them.]
no subject
There are two kinds of drives that he takes around the Horizon. The first is a meditation: the thrumming engine and booming music serve as a backdrop against which to lay out his thoughts. In his solitude, the memory of his brother, a presence in the passenger seat, keeps him company. The second is an escape: he pretends that by goading the gas pedal, he can somehow fly out of himself and leave all thought behind. Sometimes the drive starts as one kind and ends as another.
All of this is to say, Wilhelm has had a lot on his mind lately.]
I'm all right. [The tight shrug is surely convincing. He chews on his lip, looks more at the bike than at Geralt. Almost like it's an afterthought, although it definitely isn't, he adds:] I went back.
[To the island. The pit. The place that connects them.]