ZEPHYR
No promise sweeter than a blood pact
Nothing harder to go through with
than a vanishing act
Nothing harder to go through with
than a vanishing act
You can't help it: you snort at the mention of Sunjata, as though the 'Biter scares you even a little (which he really should, he's twice your level and has a million shifts). "He could use one, too." You clench and release your fists in your pockets, jaw clenched as you consider these two men and their effects on your home.
The hug ends when Sam is ready, your arms returning to your sides, hands shoved into pockets for warmth. So he wants to stay in Torchline- that's good. You can keep an eye on him there. Nodding somewhat absently you rise up to your feet. It sounds like there's a number of threats here, and he's right: better to get his stuff and get out, before they have a chance to manifest.
Falling into step beside the Ascended you let him lead you down the damp, cold road. "Gonna miss it?" you wonder, half-sarcastic, gesturing to the endless dead fields as though they might miraculously become beautiful. Maybe later in the season you would have been impressed by all the new growth, but right now you're more impressed that so much empty space can hold so little. Jerking your thumb back the way you came, you wonder: "What's th'deal with the big black cock, anyway?"
The hug ends when Sam is ready, your arms returning to your sides, hands shoved into pockets for warmth. So he wants to stay in Torchline- that's good. You can keep an eye on him there. Nodding somewhat absently you rise up to your feet. It sounds like there's a number of threats here, and he's right: better to get his stuff and get out, before they have a chance to manifest.
Falling into step beside the Ascended you let him lead you down the damp, cold road. "Gonna miss it?" you wonder, half-sarcastic, gesturing to the endless dead fields as though they might miraculously become beautiful. Maybe later in the season you would have been impressed by all the new growth, but right now you're more impressed that so much empty space can hold so little. Jerking your thumb back the way you came, you wonder: "What's th'deal with the big black cock, anyway?"
Though you repent and don sackcloth
and try to make nice
You can’t cross the same river twice
and try to make nice
You can’t cross the same river twice
