well, life has a funny way of sneaking up on you

whatever comes, let it come

what stays, let it stay

After speaking with Sunjata, Loren had gone back to his room in the Palace and passed out. However, he'd been unable to forget something the bartender had said. So, when the healer rose before dawn with a pounding headache, he'd found himself throwing on clothes with a singular determination.

Then, he'd marched the long road to the Fangs, Astra by his side (giving him worried looks as she often did these days). Heading through the portal, he'd gone to the Hollowed Grounds. And from there he marched in a straight line towards Devas Bakery, a dark expression on his face. By the time he arrived, it was fairly late in the day.

Walking into the building without bothering to knock—and indeed, opening the door with far too much force—he glanced around for Amalia. "Amalia? A word." And from his tone, she very much wouldn't like to hear what he had to say.

what goes, let go

LOREN