this world is a wasteland where nothing can grow
"Nah," Niki says of magical healing, shaking his head and mussing his hair further against the pillow. "Either it's s'posed to be this way or I think I'd need to break it in a lot of places to have it healed 'properly', and... I dunno. I don't wanna risk losin' what I got." Healing, magical or otherwise, is not infallible, Niki has learned, and he isn't keen to tempt fate.
But then Sunjata is claiming to have been on his best behaviour, and the necromancer can't hide his grin even if he'd wanted to. "Your best behaviour had you turning up on my doorstep, drunk, in a snowstorm," he points out, shaking his head and only half regretting it this time. "Nah. Sorry, you're just not as much of a problem as you think you are." And believe him, no matter how it sounds, it's actually a compliment.
But then Sunjata is claiming to have been on his best behaviour, and the necromancer can't hide his grin even if he'd wanted to. "Your best behaviour had you turning up on my doorstep, drunk, in a snowstorm," he points out, shaking his head and only half regretting it this time. "Nah. Sorry, you're just not as much of a problem as you think you are." And believe him, no matter how it sounds, it's actually a compliment.
Niki
i used to have strength but i ran out of hope
