NERON
the hailstorm
Narrowing his eyes right back at his brother, Neron spoke quietly and softly. "Don't act like I didn't know her at all," he retorted, though between the two of them, it was true that Loren most definitely had known Weaver better. Still, the moment passed in no more than those few hushed words, like ice cracking under the pressure of those standing on it. Forcing his shoulders to relax, the Hailstorm nodded. "Take as long as you need," he said.
When Loren spoke again, Neron could only press his lips into a sad smile. "Yes," he agreed, not sparing him the truth. "You really ought to have known better, especially in a place like this. She won't be forgotten, though. No doubt someone is already composing a song about it."
When Loren spoke again, Neron could only press his lips into a sad smile. "Yes," he agreed, not sparing him the truth. "You really ought to have known better, especially in a place like this. She won't be forgotten, though. No doubt someone is already composing a song about it."
