A cure for apathy

Asvor continued on, pulled across the plateau by forces unknown to her. In her currently state, she was blissfully unaware of almost everything - it wasn't that she was getting decrepit yet, but she was beginning to feel the wear and tear of time on her body. The stiffness that accompanied the coldest mornings wasn't something easily forgotten, but under the influence it was hard to dredge up those thoughts, not when her body felt blissfully numb.

Something caught her attention in the distance; even from her position, when he came into view, she could tell he was a scrawny youth. In her normal, sober state, she might not give him a second glance. A starving child wasn't her concern, even if she didn't necessarily enjoy his suffering. But it was hard to not relate to his apparent suffering - she wasn't starving in the physical sense but she was starved for something.

Slowly she redirected herself toward him, alarmed at how much effort it felt like it took. Jormungandr coiled a bit tighter around her leg, positioning herself so she could get a better look at Beat as Asvor made the painstaking journey to close the distance between the two of them. The viper hissed softly, tongue lashing out at the air, as Asvor cleared her throat. "You look like hell," Asvor stated, as matter-of-factly as if she had been stating that the sky was blue. "Aren't you too young to be exploring a place like this all on your own?" Perhaps in the past her words would've had a more sinister tone to them, but time had changed her - she was more introverted now, less likely to probe at a stranger for her own fun, especially in her current state. Now, she was simply curious, cocking an eyebrow as she took a few long steps closer.