He knew already from how Sam's face fell that the bookmaker was one of those he had wronged, and the bard drew in a shaking breath as he sought to steady himself and accept what he had done. He remembered fear in Amalia's eyes, blood on Ianto's wrist... but if he hadn't hurt Sam physically than what could his blighted body have done to the poor man? "Was it... worse than what I said at the Spire?" he asked hesitantly, the memory of one of his last lucid days before the first snow fell and the blackness descended only a little fuzzy in his usually-sharp memory. Deepfrost had arrived and stolen his mind, his memory, his sense of self but for a few brief moments stolen in blood and the pricking clarity of a Rose's thorn.
The monster hunter's guild? If he'd had more energy the bard's brow would have arched in open curiosity. Though he desperately wanted to pursue the question, Sam was clearly gathering the courage to offer some explanation, and Jigano focused on drawing in slow breaths and containing the darker emotions still pressing against his throat while he waited for his friend to continue.
That lasted until Sam found his words, and those words sent the lorekeeper surging to his feet, the chair clattering over behind him as Isuma rose to take shelter in the chandelier. The blight had found the chink in his armor it needed at the flicker of shock and anger, and Jigano stood with fingers tipped in sharp black claws and a mouthful of fangs as the blackness surged to nearly overtake the blue in his eyes. "Who!?" he hissed, a lethal edge to his voice as he pinned the bookmaker with a more-than-half-feral glare. "Who did this to you?!" Sam was his friend, and there would be hell to pay by whoever brought the gentle redhead to harm, be it goddess or wretched mortal rodent alike.
The monster hunter's guild? If he'd had more energy the bard's brow would have arched in open curiosity. Though he desperately wanted to pursue the question, Sam was clearly gathering the courage to offer some explanation, and Jigano focused on drawing in slow breaths and containing the darker emotions still pressing against his throat while he waited for his friend to continue.
That lasted until Sam found his words, and those words sent the lorekeeper surging to his feet, the chair clattering over behind him as Isuma rose to take shelter in the chandelier. The blight had found the chink in his armor it needed at the flicker of shock and anger, and Jigano stood with fingers tipped in sharp black claws and a mouthful of fangs as the blackness surged to nearly overtake the blue in his eyes. "Who!?" he hissed, a lethal edge to his voice as he pinned the bookmaker with a more-than-half-feral glare. "Who did this to you?!" Sam was his friend, and there would be hell to pay by whoever brought the gentle redhead to harm, be it goddess or wretched mortal rodent alike.
