KORBIN
And round about his home the glory
That blushed and bloomed,
That blushed and bloomed,
"My loss, I'm sure," Korbin answered, with enough of a lilting bite to make it entirely sarcastic. But he was still smiling, the frost in his mannerism thawing ever so gradually... or perhaps literally melting off the bone, it was hard to say for sure.
The blue feathers and the revelation that Weaver knew of them made the raven boy wince in mock sympathy. "You're doomed then," he proclaimed. "Other shifts or no, she'll get you one of these days. Just gotta wash your neck and prepare for the worst, like the old warriors in days of yore." He made a dramatic sweep with one hand, and downed the rest of his drink with the other. There was a touch of color creeping up his neck, but the eyes remained sharp, and glittering with mirth.
"Still... a whale, huh. What god or goddess do I have to worship for blessings like that? Seems I haven't been praying diligently enough." Korbin looked rather glumly between Sunjata's blatant display of favor and his own pathetically plain hand. No raven feathers nor razor claws in sight, however he may try to conjure some. All he felt was the itch that came with the beginning of the shift... And he made a point not to drink and fly.
The blue feathers and the revelation that Weaver knew of them made the raven boy wince in mock sympathy. "You're doomed then," he proclaimed. "Other shifts or no, she'll get you one of these days. Just gotta wash your neck and prepare for the worst, like the old warriors in days of yore." He made a dramatic sweep with one hand, and downed the rest of his drink with the other. There was a touch of color creeping up his neck, but the eyes remained sharp, and glittering with mirth.
"Still... a whale, huh. What god or goddess do I have to worship for blessings like that? Seems I haven't been praying diligently enough." Korbin looked rather glumly between Sunjata's blatant display of favor and his own pathetically plain hand. No raven feathers nor razor claws in sight, however he may try to conjure some. All he felt was the itch that came with the beginning of the shift... And he made a point not to drink and fly.
Is but a dim-remembered story
Of the old time entombed.
Of the old time entombed.
