[When Arthur does find him, Lancelot has fallen to his knees. His hands hanging at his sides, his head hanging down as the nest of wires that was his hair hides his face-- he looks a man awaiting his own execution.
The senses he has belong to the man he once was, not the Servant he is no longer, and he cannot Feel Arthur's approach-- but he does hear approaching steps. If he but could, he would disappear-- for he feels already insubstantial enough, a broken man once more.
His voice when he speaks sounds hollow to his ears. The distant croaking of carrion crows.
no subject
The senses he has belong to the man he once was, not the Servant he is no longer, and he cannot Feel Arthur's approach-- but he does hear approaching steps. If he but could, he would disappear-- for he feels already insubstantial enough, a broken man once more.
His voice when he speaks sounds hollow to his ears. The distant croaking of carrion crows.
Leave me.