Neron
Neron Launceleyn is many things. Fickle is unfortunately one of them, and perhaps that's because he's been taught his entire life to second-guess those who are closest to him, to spy and hide and betray and talk around. So it's especially painful, to feel the bridge he's started to build with Loren creak and groan under the weight of Morgan's words, and his jaw feathers as he flicks his eyes forward again. "I see," he says slowly. He can understand most of it - the reticence to make a decision, to risk making things worse rather than better. Not wanting to fling something important into the hands of those who might be hasty with it.
But to consider leaving him sick to the benefit of all others? It stings, and try as he might, the Hailstorm cannot hide it. "Do whatever it is you think you must," he says to Morgan with a gentle nod. "If that means he discontinues his position on the council, then so be it. He ought to have made you aware of the item right away. Or... as soon as he was able, under the circumstances. He was sick as well, right?"
But to consider leaving him sick to the benefit of all others? It stings, and try as he might, the Hailstorm cannot hide it. "Do whatever it is you think you must," he says to Morgan with a gentle nod. "If that means he discontinues his position on the council, then so be it. He ought to have made you aware of the item right away. Or... as soon as he was able, under the circumstances. He was sick as well, right?"
i am mine
before i am ever anyone else’s
before i am ever anyone else’s
