Kiada, he suspected, was drunk, but he still winced away from her question. She was aware enough to know that what he was asking was incredibly dangerous, perhaps incredibly foolish.
Aware enough to know that Deimos had barely survived his first delve into that cursed, poisoned well of the Voice's prison and power.
Far worse than the Harpy's query was Amalia's distress, her anger and fear and the edge of hysteria in her voice. Jigano flinched physically from her words as if they were blows. Even Deimos' eyes were tired, weary beyond bearing of what was asked of him over and over again, and beneath that onslaught the bard finally faltered, raising his hands in defense. "No, no you're right. I was... I'm so tired, and then the alcohol... I'm sorry, Amalia. I didn't mean to upset you." He bowed his head contritely, feeling the weight of what still needed doing and knowing he couldn't ask it of the three gathered here. But maybe that was for the best. Kiada and Amalia, both young and scarred, though in different ways, did not need fresh hurts piled on top of previous ones. And Deimos, too had worries and concerns of his own. Many of which centered around Amalia these days, but she would not forgive the fox if he led her lover into danger, anymore than Deimos forgave him when the baker was put at risk following the bard.
He closed his eyes as Isuma peeped worriedly from Amalia's shoulder, rubbing her face soothingly against the baker's cheek to try and get her to calm down. "I... should go," he said quietly. "Rory will want to know what happened, and that we all survived." More or less. Some significantly less than more, though he did not think Safrin's fall would affect the Abandoned man as deeply as it had the more pious Attuned. Even so, he shivered inwardly to think of the exhaustion and silent hurt in Rory's eyes when he heard. Truly he had become a bird of ill omen, just like his winged shift. 'Everything changes' the farmer was fond of saying... but some things, it seemed, never really did.
Aware enough to know that Deimos had barely survived his first delve into that cursed, poisoned well of the Voice's prison and power.
Far worse than the Harpy's query was Amalia's distress, her anger and fear and the edge of hysteria in her voice. Jigano flinched physically from her words as if they were blows. Even Deimos' eyes were tired, weary beyond bearing of what was asked of him over and over again, and beneath that onslaught the bard finally faltered, raising his hands in defense. "No, no you're right. I was... I'm so tired, and then the alcohol... I'm sorry, Amalia. I didn't mean to upset you." He bowed his head contritely, feeling the weight of what still needed doing and knowing he couldn't ask it of the three gathered here. But maybe that was for the best. Kiada and Amalia, both young and scarred, though in different ways, did not need fresh hurts piled on top of previous ones. And Deimos, too had worries and concerns of his own. Many of which centered around Amalia these days, but she would not forgive the fox if he led her lover into danger, anymore than Deimos forgave him when the baker was put at risk following the bard.
He closed his eyes as Isuma peeped worriedly from Amalia's shoulder, rubbing her face soothingly against the baker's cheek to try and get her to calm down. "I... should go," he said quietly. "Rory will want to know what happened, and that we all survived." More or less. Some significantly less than more, though he did not think Safrin's fall would affect the Abandoned man as deeply as it had the more pious Attuned. Even so, he shivered inwardly to think of the exhaustion and silent hurt in Rory's eyes when he heard. Truly he had become a bird of ill omen, just like his winged shift. 'Everything changes' the farmer was fond of saying... but some things, it seemed, never really did.
