2024-07-06 - murmuring water, whispering mist |4.5|

Pervasive but never loud, constant in its inconstancy - Knuadth's voice is a rippling and indistinct thing, prone to taking on tinges of colour and texture from fleeting thoughts and then discarding them a moment later. He does not quite speak in a monotone, but his voice is almost always quiet, seeping around those he's speaking with, trickling in and pooling somewhere in the background. Tone, meaning and intensity are easily obscured, cloaked in hushed words and an ambiguous distance... which suits him just fine. His presence is unobtrusive and deliberately hazy, hanging back in a way that is both shy and evasive.

That palpable distance is the true mark of his intent and emotions. Anger, sorrow, joy - all of these things unsettle him into a closer proximity, where his voice drapes and clings skin-close. Fluid and soft as his voice is, Knuadth's ire and sorrow are heavy, damp, and coiling, difficult to shake off and wrest away from. He lingers in a way that can be smothering, and his words cast strange, wild shadows within that congealing fog. His happiness, however, is mist-gentle, refreshing and easily shared.