living skyward

Well, it's not as if he has anyone else to watch over. Not in the castle. He looks up after a moment, seeing... they've actually moved. It wasn't his imagination. No more almost complete stillness, like a photograph. That's such a relief. He puts his book away and drifts over to them, watching for a moment to see if there's any more movement. And then he tries once more to get some of the dust and that nasty cobweb off their clothes. What a miserable thing to wake up to.