Lonely shadows following me
Lonely ghosts come a-calling
Lonely ghosts come a-calling
Korbin's eyes fell on the dagger where it sat quivering in the wood, and he looked vaguely disappointed. For a moment, he had dared to hope she would aim it at him. But clearly not.
"You don't actually know me well enough to know if I'm strong or not," Korbin pointed out, with chilling calm. It was stark in contrast to the outburst a moment ago, as if the bodily reaction had shifted something inside him. And not for the better. "A night in the sack is all you have to go on, and it has clearly left you with some illusions."
Reaching down, he yanked the knife out of the board and twirled it between his fingers, deft and dexterous. "Fact is, I'm not strong. Weaver was. She was the one who kept me going. She gave me goal and purpose.
"I don't care if she is rememebered for eternity or forgotten tonorrow. I don't care if I am, either. Life isn't about me, you say? You're right. It is about her. Always was. And now it's not anymore." His voice caught as he said it. The words were forced out, physically painful to say.
"So tell me, Kiada. Why should I have to struggle on towards an unavoidable end and endure meaningless pain when I don't want to? And don't give me crap about caring; I am a stranger, and I don't owe you anything. You don't love me, and you don't need me. As soon as the portal can be reached you will be out of here. If I'm alive or dead won't matter. It will not affect your life."
He looked at her, eyes just as cold. It was inconcievable to Korbin why she was here. Never had he done anything to invite her in or lead her on, and he had been perfectly clear about not caring about her. Was she arguing just for the sake of it?
"You don't actually know me well enough to know if I'm strong or not," Korbin pointed out, with chilling calm. It was stark in contrast to the outburst a moment ago, as if the bodily reaction had shifted something inside him. And not for the better. "A night in the sack is all you have to go on, and it has clearly left you with some illusions."
Reaching down, he yanked the knife out of the board and twirled it between his fingers, deft and dexterous. "Fact is, I'm not strong. Weaver was. She was the one who kept me going. She gave me goal and purpose.
"I don't care if she is rememebered for eternity or forgotten tonorrow. I don't care if I am, either. Life isn't about me, you say? You're right. It is about her. Always was. And now it's not anymore." His voice caught as he said it. The words were forced out, physically painful to say.
"So tell me, Kiada. Why should I have to struggle on towards an unavoidable end and endure meaningless pain when I don't want to? And don't give me crap about caring; I am a stranger, and I don't owe you anything. You don't love me, and you don't need me. As soon as the portal can be reached you will be out of here. If I'm alive or dead won't matter. It will not affect your life."
He looked at her, eyes just as cold. It was inconcievable to Korbin why she was here. Never had he done anything to invite her in or lead her on, and he had been perfectly clear about not caring about her. Was she arguing just for the sake of it?
Thousand voices dead at my feet
Now I'm gone, now I'm gone, now I'm gone
Now I'm gone, now I'm gone, now I'm gone
