[ He braces himself for his own question, as if he's broaching on an alien topic that feels as strange to ask as it is strange to consider; there are still things about the inherently supernatural that don't quite resonate with him, and a part of him, the rational side of him, doesn't know how to go about approaching this without sounding utterly foolish.
So, before he asks, he pauses. Looks Oona up and down, as if this is good enough of an indication that he's thought about what he's going to say and acknowledges that it sounds ridiculous. ]
...The voice that spoke to all of us before we were sent here. [ The calm voice that spoke directly into his head— something about being saved? Nonsense to him. ] Did you recognize it at all?
[ He asks, because maybe it's someone Oona spoke to to get her scale...? She seems more well-versed in these things, he trusts her judgment on the matter. ]
no subject
So, before he asks, he pauses. Looks Oona up and down, as if this is good enough of an indication that he's thought about what he's going to say and acknowledges that it sounds ridiculous. ]
...The voice that spoke to all of us before we were sent here. [ The calm voice that spoke directly into his head— something about being saved? Nonsense to him. ] Did you recognize it at all?
[ He asks, because maybe it's someone Oona spoke to to get her scale...? She seems more well-versed in these things, he trusts her judgment on the matter. ]