[ dextera shakes his head. it wasn’t the bogeyman that stole his color, he thinks—someone would have told him, but of course there was no way that he could have seen himself at his moment of death. only his crystal remained, anyway. ]
…not him. Death.
[ death itself took his color away, and much more than that as well. ]
no subject
…not him. Death.
[ death itself took his color away, and much more than that as well. ]