[Robin, Grima, one and the same, but the first time he tries, up on the roof, he strains his ears and hears... nothing. There's the heavy feeling of eyes on him, the prickling sensation of being watched, but...
No voices. No sound at all beyond the harsh wind.
Trying again, in a moment of calm between battles, and there's something there. Something he can only just make out, fragments of a sentence.]
no subject
No voices. No sound at all beyond the harsh wind.
Trying again, in a moment of calm between battles, and there's something there. Something he can only just make out, fragments of a sentence.]
Do you... ... proud... done?