[ Alphonse doesn't really dream so much as process, but his sleep is light in this case. When he's touched, he startles awake to see what the problem is, feeling guilt - he hadn't meant to fall asleep, especially when things were so urgent, but--
Oh.
Otus is here. Otus is here, not falling off the ship into darkness, a small shape disappearing among the chaos of Advent's explosion.
He wraps his arms around the little owl in return. ]
...You're intact, Master Otus. I'm -- very pleased, indeed.
[ Eloquence is failing him at this particular moment, but the way he's holding Otus should speak volumes about his sheer relief. Even if he doesn't know where he is - where they both are - at least Otus is here. At least -- he's all right. ]
no subject
Oh.
Otus is here. Otus is here, not falling off the ship into darkness, a small shape disappearing among the chaos of Advent's explosion.
He wraps his arms around the little owl in return. ]
...You're intact, Master Otus. I'm -- very pleased, indeed.
[ Eloquence is failing him at this particular moment, but the way he's holding Otus should speak volumes about his sheer relief. Even if he doesn't know where he is - where they both are - at least Otus is here. At least -- he's all right. ]