The careworn lines in Harper's face did nothing to reassure Hadama that the Stalwart had found his peace away from the burdens of duty. He listened quietly to the tale of a man adrift, having lost his north star and out of sight of land. The mention of Maea softened the former-Mer's gaze, but the hopelessness in Harper's conclusion - when once he had been so staunchly optimistic - tightened the skin around Hadama's eyes in silent pain.
He considered his words carefully, but by the time he was ready to speak them Harper had moved on. Jude's name did nothing to soothe the ache in his chest, not when it seemed to bring his friend no solace. More loss followed; more confusion and unhealing wounds that lingered in the heart of a man who had once been a hero and a leader.
"Harper." A name spoken softly, even as Hadama's large hand came to rest gently atop the scarred one on the box between them. "You still have a home in Torchline. A family. Allow us to help you. Please." He gave the fingers beneath his a careful squeeze. "You are not alone."
He considered his words carefully, but by the time he was ready to speak them Harper had moved on. Jude's name did nothing to soothe the ache in his chest, not when it seemed to bring his friend no solace. More loss followed; more confusion and unhealing wounds that lingered in the heart of a man who had once been a hero and a leader.
"Harper." A name spoken softly, even as Hadama's large hand came to rest gently atop the scarred one on the box between them. "You still have a home in Torchline. A family. Allow us to help you. Please." He gave the fingers beneath his a careful squeeze. "You are not alone."
