[Liem comes to wakefulness gradually, becoming aware of a softness weighting his limbs and slowing his thoughts. He crawls free of the feeling bit by bit, and as he does so, he pushes at the membranous womb of sap and earth and root that now cradles him. He is at the Tree again, and this time he is the one being birthed from its maze of root and soil. The thought dawns on him as his fingers claw through a thin layer of dirt and punch through to air.
His hatching is not a swift one. His limbs now remember the jelly-like weakness that had overtaken them when he was first summoned, and he needs to rest frequently. As he discovers, however, despite his dampness and his confinement, he is not unclothed. He is still wrapped in the sturdy garments he'd worn to Alenroux, and although they are still torn in places from the final moments of his fight, he is relieved to find that they smell of nothing but sap and petrichor.
He's pulled himself half out of his cocoon and is slumped limply against a large nearby root when he spies the sleeping figure curled nearby. His heart lifts when he sees that, aside from some clear amount of exhaustion, she seems to be as whole and well as he could have hoped for. He has to clear a week's worth of disuse from his throat before he can raise his voice enough to speak.]
no subject
His hatching is not a swift one. His limbs now remember the jelly-like weakness that had overtaken them when he was first summoned, and he needs to rest frequently. As he discovers, however, despite his dampness and his confinement, he is not unclothed. He is still wrapped in the sturdy garments he'd worn to Alenroux, and although they are still torn in places from the final moments of his fight, he is relieved to find that they smell of nothing but sap and petrichor.
He's pulled himself half out of his cocoon and is slumped limply against a large nearby root when he spies the sleeping figure curled nearby. His heart lifts when he sees that, aside from some clear amount of exhaustion, she seems to be as whole and well as he could have hoped for. He has to clear a week's worth of disuse from his throat before he can raise his voice enough to speak.]
Hayame.