KORBIN
But what does it take to break you, to awake you?
To make you bow and spit it out?
To make you bow and spit it out?
Before his world became a smoldering ruin, Korbin would have taken great pleasure in regaling this woman with tales and stories of Halo, real and made up all mixed together, so that she had to figure out for herself which was true. He could have sung songs and played music, and been every bit the bard his sister suggested he might become.
But he wasn't that person anymore. And already the conversation was wearing on him, draining away energy and patience he didn't have to spare.
"Similar," he replied shortly, "but not as cold. The seasons shifting actually meant anything. Now, all we have is before and after LongNight."
He emptied his glass, and topped off her glass with what was left in the bottle. "You could find a bard. Or any natural from Halo, if you want lore on this place. Elsewhere, yes. Locals or loreseekers." Korbin stood up, a bit unsteady on his feet but able to keep upright.
"Ningo is a fowl, they're everywhere in town. Ursur are giant, mean bears with tusks. And now if you'll excuse... I've pressing business."
With a sketched bow, half mocking and ruined by the way he staggered halfway through, Korbin moved off in the direction of the outhouse. His head was pounding, and he couldn't say if it was because of the booze, the woman or the general sense of despair.
He should be proud to have managed a whole conversation. But all he felt was drained.
But he wasn't that person anymore. And already the conversation was wearing on him, draining away energy and patience he didn't have to spare.
"Similar," he replied shortly, "but not as cold. The seasons shifting actually meant anything. Now, all we have is before and after LongNight."
He emptied his glass, and topped off her glass with what was left in the bottle. "You could find a bard. Or any natural from Halo, if you want lore on this place. Elsewhere, yes. Locals or loreseekers." Korbin stood up, a bit unsteady on his feet but able to keep upright.
"Ningo is a fowl, they're everywhere in town. Ursur are giant, mean bears with tusks. And now if you'll excuse... I've pressing business."
With a sketched bow, half mocking and ruined by the way he staggered halfway through, Korbin moved off in the direction of the outhouse. His head was pounding, and he couldn't say if it was because of the booze, the woman or the general sense of despair.
He should be proud to have managed a whole conversation. But all he felt was drained.
Doesn't matter if I hate you or embrace you
Nothing makes you turn around
Nothing makes you turn around
