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?
Korbin was reclining on his cot in the medical room set up for the duration of LongNight. Still feverish on and off, he looked on the verge of a physical collspse, not just a mental one. Gaunt and hollow cheeked, his color was pale and pasty, the aging bruises on his jaw the only splash of color around.
He slowly pried open crusty eyelids and leveled a listless gaze on Morgan. "Not particularly," he replied, voice hoarse; his mouth was dry, even though there was a glass and pitcher of water just within reach. Nor had he touched the bread and honey, or the tea standing beside it. "Didn't say anything I didn't believe."
Seems like Chulane had really gone to the Warden then. Had he resigned after all? Good riddance. Maybe that would finally get the guy off his back.
He slowly pried open crusty eyelids and leveled a listless gaze on Morgan. "Not particularly," he replied, voice hoarse; his mouth was dry, even though there was a glass and pitcher of water just within reach. Nor had he touched the bread and honey, or the tea standing beside it. "Didn't say anything I didn't believe."
Seems like Chulane had really gone to the Warden then. Had he resigned after all? Good riddance. Maybe that would finally get the guy off his back.
Doesn't matter if I hate you or embrace you
Nothing makes you turn around
Nothing makes you turn around
