Silently Koa wonders if it isn't a mistake, to wish to live in more interesting times. He's always longed for adventure and battle, but Sunjata's tale has cast a shadow over his rosy view of war heroes and demigods, grand adventures and historic conflicts.
His lantern all but finished and his thoughts rather dazed, Koa nods along at Sunjata's question, an enthusiastic look in his bright young eyes. "Of course - you can always send me a letter at the Dragoon headquarters in Stormbreak. I can meet you." The absence of an invitation to Stormbreak is as much as a statement: for all of his naiveté, he knows enough to know that it will be some time before Sunjata is truly welcome in his home.
Rising up with his lantern, Koa clicks for Pip to squirm back onto his arm. "We oughta be going, but it was good to meet you, Mr Sunjata." The boy's smile is subdued, weighted down by all he has learned. "And thanks- for telling me all of that. And... I'm sorry,"" he adds, looking down. "About your husband. And your daughter. And everything else you lost."
Then he turns and makes his way back into Torchline's busy streets, thoughts heavier and brain fuller than when he'd first sat down.
{fin}
His lantern all but finished and his thoughts rather dazed, Koa nods along at Sunjata's question, an enthusiastic look in his bright young eyes. "Of course - you can always send me a letter at the Dragoon headquarters in Stormbreak. I can meet you." The absence of an invitation to Stormbreak is as much as a statement: for all of his naiveté, he knows enough to know that it will be some time before Sunjata is truly welcome in his home.
Rising up with his lantern, Koa clicks for Pip to squirm back onto his arm. "We oughta be going, but it was good to meet you, Mr Sunjata." The boy's smile is subdued, weighted down by all he has learned. "And thanks- for telling me all of that. And... I'm sorry,"" he adds, looking down. "About your husband. And your daughter. And everything else you lost."
Then he turns and makes his way back into Torchline's busy streets, thoughts heavier and brain fuller than when he'd first sat down.
{fin}
be love in its disrepute,
scorches the hillside and salts every root
