LOREN
Loren shrugged at Abasi’s question. Honestly, the Launceleyn didn’t know the answer to it, though he hadn’t heard of anything standardized. Besides, the monsters didn’t leave bodies behind. Probably best not to mention that. ”I don’t know, really. My family burns our dead with magic.” It was supposed to return them to their roots. Glancing at the other man, the summoner wondered whether this was too morbid a topic, considering it was LongNight. Abasi had raised it first. ”Did your people have funeral traditions?” The other man had seemed to enjoy talking about his old world. Perhaps it would help take his mind off the outside, even if the subject was dark.Even if Abasi wasn’t interested in petting Astra, that didn’t mean he wasn’t interested in the luxere in general. Specifically, he seemed quite intrigued by her name. It wasn’t something Loren was particularly excited to talk about, and he glanced down, playing with a stray thread on his pants. ”She’s named after my sister who...didn’t make it to Caido. But Astra was the brightest star in my life, and so...I thought it was fitting.” And dumb, probably, naming an animal after a person. But they both brought him joy and light, and he thought that was important.
When the other man asked if the summoner’s magic was a potential solution, he laughed. ”No, probably not. Anything I summoned that could warm us would probably burn the place down.” The potential for property damage during LongNight was too high to even think about it. ”I meant that we could get a fire going, or find a blanket. Or…” He bit his lip, looking away as a slight flush came to his cheeks. ”We could share, if there’s room.” Again, this was far more forward than the Launceleyn would have normally been comfortable with—not that he was particularly comfortable with it, as evidenced by how awkwardly he’d brought up the possibility—but Abasi had seemed to open the door to it. And Frey had commanded it. And it was LongNight and they all might die at any given moment.
And frankly, Loren was tired of being lonely. Better to take a chance and get rejected than to assume the worst all the time: it was something he’d finally learned and was just now beginning to accept.
A beggar's book
outworths
a noble's blood
