Given the number of people who had jumped, fallen, or been knocked from the bridge's span, it was a minor relief to have them both heading towards an end that connected to solid ground. Perhaps Sunjata would find himself drawn to the Guild's doors with a question one day... or perhaps not. It didn't hurt to spread word of the Guild again after it's period of inactivity under Zariah's rule, especially to newcomers who wouldn't have heard of it before.
Unhealed wounds and wounding words (and nails and claws and fangs) were hallmarks of the blight, and Jigano nodded emphatic agreement to the desire for it to be over and gone from their lives. "The sooner the better," he murmured fervently. The weakness, the shaking, the mood swings, the cold...at least they were getting better now, though. In the depths of his madness, those few times the Roses' thorns had pricked him back to sanity he had thought he would never recover. Each time he had fallen back into the black haze of blightrage it had been like dying, wondering if this time would be the last.
Now, though his temper still swung wildly at times, he at least knew what he did, and could remember it. It was still terrible, but not as abjectly terrifying as the blank weeks in his memories were.
"A jack of all trades, then?" he asked curiously, pleased to find another dabbler who knew a little bit about a lot of things, but was master of only a few. "I hadn't heard that Phoebe was researching the blight, too. What did you discover about it?" Not even the blight could completely dull his curiosity, his desire to know more. In this case, especially about what was still crawling through his veins and twisting up his heart and tongue.
Unhealed wounds and wounding words (and nails and claws and fangs) were hallmarks of the blight, and Jigano nodded emphatic agreement to the desire for it to be over and gone from their lives. "The sooner the better," he murmured fervently. The weakness, the shaking, the mood swings, the cold...at least they were getting better now, though. In the depths of his madness, those few times the Roses' thorns had pricked him back to sanity he had thought he would never recover. Each time he had fallen back into the black haze of blightrage it had been like dying, wondering if this time would be the last.
Now, though his temper still swung wildly at times, he at least knew what he did, and could remember it. It was still terrible, but not as abjectly terrifying as the blank weeks in his memories were.
"A jack of all trades, then?" he asked curiously, pleased to find another dabbler who knew a little bit about a lot of things, but was master of only a few. "I hadn't heard that Phoebe was researching the blight, too. What did you discover about it?" Not even the blight could completely dull his curiosity, his desire to know more. In this case, especially about what was still crawling through his veins and twisting up his heart and tongue.
