“Nnnnh.”
Anolis opened his eyes. The utterance barely registered in his ears, leaving him unsure he’d heard anything at all. The younger nemaqi’s coma had endured for several weeks, so he’d been told — there remained no sign he ever would regain consciousness before his passing. Yet, Anolis felt certain that some indistinct noise just escaped from his wayward son.
Gently moving to his feet, the elder nemaqi hobbled to the nearby biobed in relative silence, the butt of his cane disturbing the quiet with every tap against the deckplating. The dark-scaled face before him presented no glimmer of hope toward a miraculous recovery. With a sigh, Anolis gently laid his gloved hand on Khamai’s chest, following the rhythmic heartbeat from within.