I can't decide which hurts more...
The apprentice, newly formed and yet to wake up. Asra sits at their bedside as he musters up his courage. Slowly, he slides his hand into theirs. He never thought he'd be able to do this again. He studies their hand, he traces the framiliar calluses, the little scar on their knuckle from a knife they should have sharpened before using it. He'd memorized this hand. It was their hand. Asra lets out the breath he'd been holding in as a choked sob.
OR
Their skin is smooth as a newborn babe, flushed at the finger tips and velvet-soft. Hands unmarred by years of hard work and lessons learned. A new body, a new start. He wonders, as he drags his eyes from their hand to their sleeping face, what else could be different? He feels the remaining half of his heart clench as doubt begins to fester. Is this really them?












