Unsure if he'll make it back home in time to retrieve his mother's lantern, Koa thinks it best to simply set about making a new one. This is easier said than done: despite his surname and family history, Koa's skills as a craftsman are rather lackluster at best. An engineer of vibes rather than structure, he had offered Noe moral support as she artfully constructed the one that now rests in a place of honor on their mantlepiece.
So it is no surprise that he opts to buy a pre-constructed framework, despite knowing full well that his father might have an aneurysm should he find out. He figures he will make up for his sins by adding his own décor, specifically shells and beach glass melted together through dragonfire.
He's on his way back from the beach to collect his framework when a lanky figure on a bench stops him in his tracks. Koa can't help it: he's a bit of a nerd, and so of course he's seen renditions and heard descriptions of Sunjata the Flood, Demigod of Frey. So when he finds the man on the street, sitting there, making a lantern without a care in the world, well...
"Mister Sunjata, Sir?" The young soldier stops in front of the older man, Pip peering curiously down from his shoulder. A piece of smooth blue sea glass slips between fidgety fingers, hesitation and eagerness warring through tense muscles and into bright eyes. "I hope you don't mind the interruption, it's just... well, I've read and heard a lot about you. Kind of an honor to see you here, in the flesh."
So it is no surprise that he opts to buy a pre-constructed framework, despite knowing full well that his father might have an aneurysm should he find out. He figures he will make up for his sins by adding his own décor, specifically shells and beach glass melted together through dragonfire.
He's on his way back from the beach to collect his framework when a lanky figure on a bench stops him in his tracks. Koa can't help it: he's a bit of a nerd, and so of course he's seen renditions and heard descriptions of Sunjata the Flood, Demigod of Frey. So when he finds the man on the street, sitting there, making a lantern without a care in the world, well...
"Mister Sunjata, Sir?" The young soldier stops in front of the older man, Pip peering curiously down from his shoulder. A piece of smooth blue sea glass slips between fidgety fingers, hesitation and eagerness warring through tense muscles and into bright eyes. "I hope you don't mind the interruption, it's just... well, I've read and heard a lot about you. Kind of an honor to see you here, in the flesh."
be love in its disrepute,
scorches the hillside and salts every root
