[Stagnating in bitterness and hate: add in a helping of unbridled remorse, and Carlisle knows intimately what that's like, as it perfectly describes what he feels when he tries to recall his time as the Blight Heir. Among what few images he can recall are emotions, ones that flood through him so thoroughly that he fears if he wades too far within them, he will be dragged under, doomed to suffocate beneath them.
He runs a hand through his hair, trying to fix the mess the dragon made.]
no subject
He runs a hand through his hair, trying to fix the mess the dragon made.]
How did he help you, if I may ask?
[Asking for a friend. Not him.]