Maea
And time it waits for no one
It heals them when you die
It heals them when you die
Maea pondered the view he offered on Deimos, at least. That the man was what he was not necessarily because he wanted it, but because habit and need had forged him to become that way. She hummed thoughtfully, her expression understanding when Sunjata seemed less than happy to talk about the General, and let the subject drop.
But then, Sunjata answered her question, and very much contradicted Maea's view on him. His statements of being greedy enough to steal, cold enough to kill, made her turn to look at him, her hands quite still as they closed around the bag he offered her.
Her eyes studied him closely, in that deep, soul-searching way she had done that day by the river. As if trying to see into the deepest depths of him. "It should bother me... shouldn't it?" she said, slowly. Hands tingling from how close he suddenly was. "That you have killed... and would do it again. And yet... it doesn't." Maea frowned, lowering her gaze to her own hands. Blood still crusted under her nails, clung to the creases of her skin... yet that didn't bother her either.
But then, Sunjata answered her question, and very much contradicted Maea's view on him. His statements of being greedy enough to steal, cold enough to kill, made her turn to look at him, her hands quite still as they closed around the bag he offered her.
Her eyes studied him closely, in that deep, soul-searching way she had done that day by the river. As if trying to see into the deepest depths of him. "It should bother me... shouldn't it?" she said, slowly. Hands tingling from how close he suddenly was. "That you have killed... and would do it again. And yet... it doesn't." Maea frowned, lowering her gaze to her own hands. Blood still crusted under her nails, clung to the creases of her skin... yet that didn't bother her either.
And soon you are forgotten
A whisper within a sigh
A whisper within a sigh
