KORBIN
But what does it take to break you, to awake you?
To make you bow and spit it out?
To make you bow and spit it out?
The glass raised in his direction was what caught Korbin's eye. His eyes narrowed when he realized exactly who was holding it. The first time he saw Neron was the night when his sister deposed the man from his spot as king of the hill. Safe to say, it hadn't been the most amiable atmosphere, and did nothing to improve his already piss poor opinion of the man.
But Korbin really couldn't bring himself to hold on to old ire. It was hard enough to just keep on his feet. The boy looked just as wrung out as the Hailstorm, and for similar reasons. A diet of air and alcohol was doing him no favors.
Rather hesitant, Korbin made his way towards the former Warden. "May I?" he asked quietly, nodding towards a chair. He hadn't sought the company of anyone since Weaver was killed, and he really couldn't say why he was doing it now. There was a wariness about him, as though he half expected to be driven off by hard words. Just like he himself did to everyone else.
But Korbin really couldn't bring himself to hold on to old ire. It was hard enough to just keep on his feet. The boy looked just as wrung out as the Hailstorm, and for similar reasons. A diet of air and alcohol was doing him no favors.
Rather hesitant, Korbin made his way towards the former Warden. "May I?" he asked quietly, nodding towards a chair. He hadn't sought the company of anyone since Weaver was killed, and he really couldn't say why he was doing it now. There was a wariness about him, as though he half expected to be driven off by hard words. Just like he himself did to everyone else.
Doesn't matter if I hate you or embrace you
Nothing makes you turn around
Nothing makes you turn around
