loren
”I did.” The idea that Loren, of all people, didn’t have a stake in all this was completely preposterous, and his voice came out immediately and forcefully. He still cared about others, even if they were indifferent or hostile towards him, and rightly so. And given that part of the reason everything in the Hollowed Grounds and with the Fae had gone so poorly was because of his family, so he felt doubly responsible for helping out where he could. ”And all it says is that I went away for a long while and abandoned those I cared about when they needed me most.” He firmly believed that, probably because it had been communicated to him so many times. Still, even then, others couldn’t really do anything to add to the enormous guilt he carried around with him.
Jigano’s explanation about the previous LongNight was a harrowing one, and the summoner shook his head in response. ”No.” No his reasons were not any different. Still, it was literally the least he could do, stuffing moss into crevices. And it had been communicated strenuously to him that he should probably not even be doing that much, since Wessex didn’t want him exercising independent thought.
Unsurprisingly, his mood wasn’t improved when the conversation swung around to his wants and desires; in fact, the shadows in his eyes grew even darker and more hooded. ”Ask away.” For once, talking about the past seemed easier than the future. ”No it’s fine. Although I’d say that what we do is who we are.” Actions spoke louder than words, everyone knew that.
The Launceleyn glanced at their handiwork, surprised they’d already completed their task. ”Let’s take a break and chat, since you wanted to ask me some questions. We can move on when we’re both feeling ready.” Well, mostly when the bard had recovered—because it wasn’t like Loren was tuckered out from their actions—but it would be nice to not have to do anything for a bit. Of course, he wasn’t exactly looking forward to talking, either. Still, he led his way over to one of the many unoccupied beds in the infirmary and sank down in it, Astra curling up at his feet.
Jigano’s explanation about the previous LongNight was a harrowing one, and the summoner shook his head in response. ”No.” No his reasons were not any different. Still, it was literally the least he could do, stuffing moss into crevices. And it had been communicated strenuously to him that he should probably not even be doing that much, since Wessex didn’t want him exercising independent thought.
Unsurprisingly, his mood wasn’t improved when the conversation swung around to his wants and desires; in fact, the shadows in his eyes grew even darker and more hooded. ”Ask away.” For once, talking about the past seemed easier than the future. ”No it’s fine. Although I’d say that what we do is who we are.” Actions spoke louder than words, everyone knew that.
The Launceleyn glanced at their handiwork, surprised they’d already completed their task. ”Let’s take a break and chat, since you wanted to ask me some questions. We can move on when we’re both feeling ready.” Well, mostly when the bard had recovered—because it wasn’t like Loren was tuckered out from their actions—but it would be nice to not have to do anything for a bit. Of course, he wasn’t exactly looking forward to talking, either. Still, he led his way over to one of the many unoccupied beds in the infirmary and sank down in it, Astra curling up at his feet.
Never judge a book by its cover.
