"Would you have helped the bird if you found it wounded? he asks, and she pauses for a moment, taking him in. A kind soul, more like Korbin than her, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. The world needed both. It needed those who were battle hardened and world weary, and it needed those that still sought to help, that still saw good in the world where others could not find it. It would be a bleak world without such a perspective, on occasion. It was already bleak enough. She answers honestly, which is not necessarily a strange thing for her but she does not always give out honesty so freely either. “The kindest thing I would have known to do was put it out of its misery. I don’t know how to heal.” I don’t know how to help, is what she means, but she doesn’t say it that way. That would be too honest, it would be more of herself than she is willing to reveal to a stranger.
The string of knives around her waist says enough anyone. She has lived of life of death. Her family, briefly herself, a constant slew of hunting. Her life was hunt or be hunted, kill or be killed. Her magic was almost useless, having never taken the time to cultivate her powers. It would be useful though. Useful to learn how to control fire (she lives in Halo, after all). Useful to collect new magics, like healing, so that perhaps she could do more than simply destroy. Not that it would change her, not that it would make her into something she was not, but perhaps it would make survival easier, making actually living feel more like an option. Living felt like a luxury.
He brushes his hands off on clothes that don’t look like anything she’d expect to see in Caido. Her clothes were too warm for the Grounds, though she’d stopped at a merchant’s shop to get something slightly more appropriate for Longheat and was now wearing clothing that at least she would not melt in. Here in the Grounds she went without her usual cape, the neck rimmed in raven feathers, which was the most unusual thing she owned other than the scythe on her back. “I take it you aren’t from around here originally?” she asks, nodding to his outfit as he finishes wiping his hands.
The string of knives around her waist says enough anyone. She has lived of life of death. Her family, briefly herself, a constant slew of hunting. Her life was hunt or be hunted, kill or be killed. Her magic was almost useless, having never taken the time to cultivate her powers. It would be useful though. Useful to learn how to control fire (she lives in Halo, after all). Useful to collect new magics, like healing, so that perhaps she could do more than simply destroy. Not that it would change her, not that it would make her into something she was not, but perhaps it would make survival easier, making actually living feel more like an option. Living felt like a luxury.
He brushes his hands off on clothes that don’t look like anything she’d expect to see in Caido. Her clothes were too warm for the Grounds, though she’d stopped at a merchant’s shop to get something slightly more appropriate for Longheat and was now wearing clothing that at least she would not melt in. Here in the Grounds she went without her usual cape, the neck rimmed in raven feathers, which was the most unusual thing she owned other than the scythe on her back. “I take it you aren’t from around here originally?” she asks, nodding to his outfit as he finishes wiping his hands.
weaver
-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --
Quote by Charles Dickens
