The chiming voices from his -- dream? -- have been replaced by much rougher, deeper voices nearby. It sounds a little like the main room of Milliways on a typical night: dozens of people talking, laughing, having a good old time without worrying about how much noise they're making.
Snatches of nearer conversation float to his ears: "-- yes, leaping like one of the red men's flyers, straight into the riders' camp --" "Just like Dotar Sojat used to do --" "He's so small! And pale. Is he sickly?" "Sickly, pfah! You should have seen Dotar Sojat. He was white as a blind ape!"
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The chiming voices from his -- dream? -- have been replaced by much rougher, deeper voices nearby. It sounds a little like the main room of Milliways on a typical night: dozens of people talking, laughing, having a good old time without worrying about how much noise they're making.
Snatches of nearer conversation float to his ears: "-- yes, leaping like one of the red men's flyers, straight into the riders' camp --" "Just like Dotar Sojat used to do --" "He's so small! And pale. Is he sickly?" "Sickly, pfah! You should have seen Dotar Sojat. He was white as a blind ape!"
... they're talking about him. Fuckin Christ.