[He takes a few minutes to look presentable, which mostly involves yanking a comb through his hair and throwing on a shirt. Then, to emerge from the stale fug of his room.
The garden in question perches on a terrace overlooking one of the castle's courtyards. Sometimes he comes here to relax, or at least to try. Now, the peace created by the overflowing greenery and agreeable flowers seems a falsehood when he knows half the world is on fire. Well, maybe not half the world, but...a fraction that's still too wide.
Wilhelm turns at the sound of his name. It could be because he hasn't really seen anybody in days, slipping by in a spectral haze — or it could be something about Rhy specifically, pulling him in like the tide — but whatever the reason, his greeting is not verbal. He simply walks up to Rhy, throws his arms around him, and buries his face in his shoulder.]
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The garden in question perches on a terrace overlooking one of the castle's courtyards. Sometimes he comes here to relax, or at least to try. Now, the peace created by the overflowing greenery and agreeable flowers seems a falsehood when he knows half the world is on fire. Well, maybe not half the world, but...a fraction that's still too wide.
Wilhelm turns at the sound of his name. It could be because he hasn't really seen anybody in days, slipping by in a spectral haze — or it could be something about Rhy specifically, pulling him in like the tide — but whatever the reason, his greeting is not verbal. He simply walks up to Rhy, throws his arms around him, and buries his face in his shoulder.]