Tal looked at the journal, confusion evident on his terrible poker face, but didn't move to take it. He wasn't quite sure what she expected him to do with it, but her apology seemed sincere enough that he nodded cautious acceptance of it. He was still tensed on the edge of his chair, mentally halfway out the door, but he waited to see what her next words would be before he fled.
But she did began to talk about her experience in the dream. Tal nodded jerkily when she described the Family-ish things, half-formed but not yet complete. He stilled again, however, when she described the singular entity that was in a league all its own. His pale eyes rested on her, alert beneath his furrowed brow, even as his fingers tightened on his coffee cup.
Her final words kept the frown on his face, however, and he finally exhaled and set his cup aside. "Th'fucker in th'center... yeah. It felt like some kind o' god," he acknowledged reluctantly. "Thing is, I've met some o' Caido's gods. It was... it was stronger'n th'heralds." He hesitated and then gave a fierce shake of his head. "But not stronger'n Mort." His voice warmed briefly with the awe he still felt in remembering his meeting with the young-old god of death, but it was quickly replaced by his scowl. " But if y'think we're all doomed an' we should just roll over an' let th'Void rip out our bellies, I'm outta here. " He stood, brushing crumbs from his trousers. "I'm not okay with that Vox thing riflin' through my private thoughts, an' Void critters killin' off all our native animals." His scowl lightened somewhat as he snorted with a fierce sort of satisfaction. "An' maybe I'm not strong enough t'do much on my own, but it hasn't been that long since th'last god we killed. Figure even if I can't fight it myself, I can support th'guys who can." If she couldn't see the danger, maybe it was because she already had one foot in the Family's door? And if that was the case, he wasn't sure how safe he was in her house.
But she did began to talk about her experience in the dream. Tal nodded jerkily when she described the Family-ish things, half-formed but not yet complete. He stilled again, however, when she described the singular entity that was in a league all its own. His pale eyes rested on her, alert beneath his furrowed brow, even as his fingers tightened on his coffee cup.
Her final words kept the frown on his face, however, and he finally exhaled and set his cup aside. "Th'fucker in th'center... yeah. It felt like some kind o' god," he acknowledged reluctantly. "Thing is, I've met some o' Caido's gods. It was... it was stronger'n th'heralds." He hesitated and then gave a fierce shake of his head. "But not stronger'n Mort." His voice warmed briefly with the awe he still felt in remembering his meeting with the young-old god of death, but it was quickly replaced by his scowl. " But if y'think we're all doomed an' we should just roll over an' let th'Void rip out our bellies, I'm outta here. " He stood, brushing crumbs from his trousers. "I'm not okay with that Vox thing riflin' through my private thoughts, an' Void critters killin' off all our native animals." His scowl lightened somewhat as he snorted with a fierce sort of satisfaction. "An' maybe I'm not strong enough t'do much on my own, but it hasn't been that long since th'last god we killed. Figure even if I can't fight it myself, I can support th'guys who can." If she couldn't see the danger, maybe it was because she already had one foot in the Family's door? And if that was the case, he wasn't sure how safe he was in her house.
