[It is the "okay" of someone who is not healthy. The Drifter has not been harmed by any creatures that lurk in this forest but that is where it ends. They both are still sick, still waiting for the moment that their heart squeezes and that familiar taste of bile and blood clogs their throat. The Guardian remembers the days far in the past where things were "okay", when they did not need technology to run longer then usual without doubling over and hacking their lungs up in a nearby bush.
(When things were still hard but "okay" because their family was alive.)
The Guardian appreciates the Drifter's blunt question. It became...difficult, eventually, to tell if it truly was their time before they woke up, be it by the Jackal's hand or the end of Judgement's brutal hallucinations. And there truly is no other way to confront this but directly.]
I'd like to think I am. [Fight, for just one more day.] Are you...?
no subject
(When things were still hard but "okay" because their family was alive.)
The Guardian appreciates the Drifter's blunt question. It became...difficult, eventually, to tell if it truly was their time before they woke up, be it by the Jackal's hand or the end of Judgement's brutal hallucinations. And there truly is no other way to confront this but directly.]
I'd like to think I am. [Fight, for just one more day.] Are you...?