Do you have any idea how the blight is spread? The question wasn't entirely academic, a worried note of brooding in the bard's tone. I'm... worried about Melita. The admission was softer. She's been different lately. Sick, I think, and I don't know if it's just a Leafchange bug or... something worse. When you mentioned the pumpkin having the blight I thought... well. If it didn't bite her, then maybe not. He knew he didn't need to elaborate on what could be worse. Not to Remi, of all people.
It was hard to put into words what that pulse of appreciation meant to him. He had feared bridges burned and chances lost, too used to being always on the move to remember how resilient a network of people who truly cared could be. But neither Ronin nor Remi was treating him as the pariah he feared becoming, and in spite of their heavy conversation he seemed to perk up a little for a moment.
It doesn't hurt to look, and we might learn something new. It might look different between day and night as well, he agreed, though hearing that no one else had found any results was a disappointing - if not unexpected - revelation. He turned his attention to the passing trees below them, peering through the dark as best he could with eyes better suited to dawn and dusk. Still, the night was clear and the stars were bright. It wasn't impossible that they would see something, especially if it glowed beneath the leaf-lost trees of autumn.
I'd prefer to remain in one piece, too, the bard responded, a spark of dry humor resurfacing. Though if we did race I suspect I'd lose. If only to prevent you from 'eating crow' if I somehow beat you! The joke may have been weak, but it felt better than the seething twist of frustration and pique that hissed within his blood, just below the surface of his thoughts, constantly seeking insult and slight, real or imagined, at every opportunity.
It was hard to put into words what that pulse of appreciation meant to him. He had feared bridges burned and chances lost, too used to being always on the move to remember how resilient a network of people who truly cared could be. But neither Ronin nor Remi was treating him as the pariah he feared becoming, and in spite of their heavy conversation he seemed to perk up a little for a moment.
It doesn't hurt to look, and we might learn something new. It might look different between day and night as well, he agreed, though hearing that no one else had found any results was a disappointing - if not unexpected - revelation. He turned his attention to the passing trees below them, peering through the dark as best he could with eyes better suited to dawn and dusk. Still, the night was clear and the stars were bright. It wasn't impossible that they would see something, especially if it glowed beneath the leaf-lost trees of autumn.
I'd prefer to remain in one piece, too, the bard responded, a spark of dry humor resurfacing. Though if we did race I suspect I'd lose. If only to prevent you from 'eating crow' if I somehow beat you! The joke may have been weak, but it felt better than the seething twist of frustration and pique that hissed within his blood, just below the surface of his thoughts, constantly seeking insult and slight, real or imagined, at every opportunity.
