She can't see the landscape anymore
It's all painted in her grief
All of her history etched out at her feet
It's all painted in her grief
All of her history etched out at her feet
Although they might be kin in race, Letha was not to keen on jumping off the bridge and trusting Samuel quite yet. Amun had been so warm and inviting, and had helped her connect the pieces of her new life in Caido. Who was this man, standing before her so enthusiastic about who--what she--was. She remembered the sharp stone.
Oh. He was council member. Whatever it meant, Letha knew it was important. He had a rank. She ran her tongue over her own fangs, still a little unsure of the details of their purpose. She sighed some then, and the tension she had been holding in her body was nearly a physical manifest when it fell from her shoulder. "Oh, I see. Well, I've met another Ascended. He's been helping me. Amun...do you know him?"
How had this woman, once so reserved and so quiet, been so willing to divulge information to complete strangers here in Caido? Was it because she felt a sort of companionship with them, a tie to the fact that some of those she had met so far have also been transplants, vagabonds, thrust into this world without their consent?
