Ludo's song had a habit of calling lost souls... just not the souls that Jigano sought. The voice in his head was not entirely unexpected, though the owner of it was a surprise. Not Kiada or Amalia, neither Caiside nor Cera, but one he had yet to come to terms with as she underwent a change that he hoped was for the better. Hope, however, was not a surplus commodity as the seasons turned back towards Deepfrost, and the approaching Long Night...
As--shetta, he corrected his greeting with only a faint stumble, turning to face the wolf-become-woman as he continued to sing. It is a song for calling lost and wandering souls. A gift from Ludo, and a charge. He leaned on his staff, willing his fingers to stop their shaking with only partial success. Whether she had noticed or not in her wolf form, his scent had subtly changed from their last meetings, now bearing an earthier quality reminiscent of Ronin's. He watched her warily as the mists flowed slowly thicker overhead, the moonlight diffusing into greyness so that most of the light came once more from the white lantern. Held low as it was, it played eerily over both their faces, creating masks of dancing shadows that gave them both a ghoulish cast. Around was only silence, the mist muffling the sounds of fellow nighthunters and their prey as they danced their small dramas out amidst the rubble, hidden from human eyes.
What brings you out into the Ruins so late at night? Do you bring a message for me? He spoke with weary, wry humor but a flicker of suspicion might have made it through his cool courtesy. This time, however, he waited to hear what she had to say before he pounced in judgment on her former profession. This song is supposed to call to the dead, not to the living.
As--shetta, he corrected his greeting with only a faint stumble, turning to face the wolf-become-woman as he continued to sing. It is a song for calling lost and wandering souls. A gift from Ludo, and a charge. He leaned on his staff, willing his fingers to stop their shaking with only partial success. Whether she had noticed or not in her wolf form, his scent had subtly changed from their last meetings, now bearing an earthier quality reminiscent of Ronin's. He watched her warily as the mists flowed slowly thicker overhead, the moonlight diffusing into greyness so that most of the light came once more from the white lantern. Held low as it was, it played eerily over both their faces, creating masks of dancing shadows that gave them both a ghoulish cast. Around was only silence, the mist muffling the sounds of fellow nighthunters and their prey as they danced their small dramas out amidst the rubble, hidden from human eyes.
What brings you out into the Ruins so late at night? Do you bring a message for me? He spoke with weary, wry humor but a flicker of suspicion might have made it through his cool courtesy. This time, however, he waited to hear what she had to say before he pounced in judgment on her former profession. This song is supposed to call to the dead, not to the living.
