"Sure!" Koa's enthusiasm at being asked to sit is innocent and palpable, and he's almost bashful as he slides into the empty space at Sunjata's side. Pipsqueak, of course, has no such qualms: she is quick to slither off Koa's shoulder, her snout extending curiously toward the collection of lantern pieces, nostrils flaring and large ears dancing expressively on a furry head. The Dragoon keeps a hold on her as best he can, trying to prevent her from fully scrambling into Sunjata's lap where she's sure to attempt some larceny. "Sorry about Pip. She has no decorum." A dramatic sigh accompanies the complaint, Koa shaking the dragonling with fond exasperation.
He nods eagerly, somewhat surprised Sunjata doesn't know this. "In school we had a whole section on demigods," Koa explains, "And their roles in the war. I always thought it was admirable, how Frey's chosen created a haven for the preservation of those who could not fight." Not taught, because this was essentially propaganda, was Sunjata's role in the fall of the Tower. All credit for that had gone to Wessex and Nate, and it's a good thing in this moment, for Koa would look quite less reverently at the Flood were he to know the truth.
He nods eagerly, somewhat surprised Sunjata doesn't know this. "In school we had a whole section on demigods," Koa explains, "And their roles in the war. I always thought it was admirable, how Frey's chosen created a haven for the preservation of those who could not fight." Not taught, because this was essentially propaganda, was Sunjata's role in the fall of the Tower. All credit for that had gone to Wessex and Nate, and it's a good thing in this moment, for Koa would look quite less reverently at the Flood were he to know the truth.
be love in its disrepute,
scorches the hillside and salts every root
