Tal was silent for a little while as Cordelia talked, finishing the lantern's simple dovetail joints and then picking up a piece of thin, waxed paper, fiddling with it awkwardly in his fingers. "You couldn't be with her every second of every day," he said gruffly at last. "An' if she was determined to go... wherever she went, she would have found a way eventually. It's not your fault." That was the sort of thing people said in these situations, right?
He sighed at the return question, finally gluing the plain white sheet into place for one wall. "No. Well. Dad's wasn't. He was a Shield, and when the cultists attacked that Deepfrost... well. Fuckin' Neron." He scowled down at his lantern, pressing the paper onto the frame with more force than necessary. "Mom just... never got over it. Died a year later of a broken heart and a fuckton of alcohol." A second piece of plain paper was stuck to the opposite side and then he stared down at the two remaining sheets, looking a little lost.
He sighed at the return question, finally gluing the plain white sheet into place for one wall. "No. Well. Dad's wasn't. He was a Shield, and when the cultists attacked that Deepfrost... well. Fuckin' Neron." He scowled down at his lantern, pressing the paper onto the frame with more force than necessary. "Mom just... never got over it. Died a year later of a broken heart and a fuckton of alcohol." A second piece of plain paper was stuck to the opposite side and then he stared down at the two remaining sheets, looking a little lost.
