[The flash of red in the sky had brought Hubert out on deck in curiosity; the waves rocking the Shepherd had sent him scurrying back inside out of fear of being thrown overboard.
But in the wake of the eerie tranquility that had followed those few minutes of chaos, he wanders out again, feeling simultaneously calm yet troubled. Having left his journal inside, he thankfully misses the hissing voice issuing from the pages.
It's a warm day for winter, so -- appropriately bundled -- Hubert remains on deck to enjoy the weather. He leans on the ship's railings, gazing at the horizon. Or rather, in his mind: gazing at what isn't on the horizon.
The sky, after all, is so strangely empty without Foselos stretching across it.]
January 3rd - early afternoon?
But in the wake of the eerie tranquility that had followed those few minutes of chaos, he wanders out again, feeling simultaneously calm yet troubled. Having left his journal inside, he thankfully misses the hissing voice issuing from the pages.
It's a warm day for winter, so -- appropriately bundled -- Hubert remains on deck to enjoy the weather. He leans on the ship's railings, gazing at the horizon. Or rather, in his mind: gazing at what isn't on the horizon.
The sky, after all, is so strangely empty without Foselos stretching across it.]