[ what has he done? there's no one to answer that question. coming near him offers the younger hedgehog a sound of white noise, static blurring together, and it blocks out the noise of everything else. conversations overlapped, previous ones, phrases like "who are you" become no more than garbled noises rushed together and said backwards. even music, there's the sound of familiar music that the other would know so well that buzzes from the lifeform unable to hold itself together.
as the new world covers the old, the angel is met with an entity that manages to keep a form within the zone he's brought them in. any emotions that he feels are vacant from the static before him, just words that emit from the creature and nothing else.
the form is still that of a hedgehog, when the other touches at the waves, the body does tremble but the form is physical. perhaps thanks to the domain, or the dna that his other carries. the gashes at his shoulder remain, but it's like the area are pixelated in terms of trying to recreate what should be there. it never does, but from the look of things, it doesn't seem to hurt. no matter how grotesque the creature is before the makeshift illusion, the same hand raises from it, gloves formed to be claws reach out to grab the hand that reaches out to it.
shadow holds, reverberations coursing through the palm of of the illusion like a heartbeat. the illusion pulls the creature closer, bringing it's hand to the fluff of its chest that seems to fade in and out. pulsing. ]
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as the new world covers the old, the angel is met with an entity that manages to keep a form within the zone he's brought them in. any emotions that he feels are vacant from the static before him, just words that emit from the creature and nothing else.
the form is still that of a hedgehog, when the other touches at the waves, the body does tremble but the form is physical. perhaps thanks to the domain, or the dna that his other carries. the gashes at his shoulder remain, but it's like the area are pixelated in terms of trying to recreate what should be there. it never does, but from the look of things, it doesn't seem to hurt. no matter how grotesque the creature is before the makeshift illusion, the same hand raises from it, gloves formed to be claws reach out to grab the hand that reaches out to it.
shadow holds, reverberations coursing through the palm of of the illusion like a heartbeat. the illusion pulls the creature closer, bringing it's hand to the fluff of its chest that seems to fade in and out. pulsing. ]