THE LION ISN'T SACRED WHEN NOT SLEEPING NEAR THE LAMB
The expression of interest and mild amusement never leaves his face: a wry twist of the mouth, a curious light in his eyes. If he is humoring Dorian or if he is genuinely curious, Brecken himself can't be sure. He likes the idea of the Climb. He likes the idea of getting out of the city, already. But he also likes the idea of being needed, of being useful, and so he allows the surprise to show plainly on his face as he takes in this little plan.
"Here I thought you were about to ask of me something unpleasant," Brecken jokes. But his tone is serious when he continues. "What else can you tell me about this woman?" There is a picture forming in his mind already, shaped by the presence of Frey and what Brecken knows of Torchline. The picture is pleasant enough. Of course, he would have agreed if this Phoebe Steadman were an old hag, simply because Dorian asked it of him. The asking is a formality, a peculiarity of Dorian, Brecken thinks. It is part of why he likes the man, but partly what keeps him on edge around the Orator.
"Here I thought you were about to ask of me something unpleasant," Brecken jokes. But his tone is serious when he continues. "What else can you tell me about this woman?" There is a picture forming in his mind already, shaped by the presence of Frey and what Brecken knows of Torchline. The picture is pleasant enough. Of course, he would have agreed if this Phoebe Steadman were an old hag, simply because Dorian asked it of him. The asking is a formality, a peculiarity of Dorian, Brecken thinks. It is part of why he likes the man, but partly what keeps him on edge around the Orator.
IT IS EVIL WHEN IT EATS UNLESS IT'S FEEDING FROM THE DAMNED.
