And just like that, the song is over. Or really, her new companion has forgotten the rest of the lyrics. She doesn’t blame him, given that she couldn’t hold a tune and definitely couldn’t be bothered to remember lyrics to songs. She could pull a few lines out of her pocket if you really wanted (but you didn’t, because remember, she can’t sing), but that was about the end of it. So they turn to conversation, and he gives her an answer, though it’s not the most satisfying. Weaver wasn’t one for prying too deep though, knowing how she guards her own secrets, and so she doesn’t press the issue really.
“I’ve been hearing her name around here a lot lately,” she says, remembering the conversation with Deimos about catching the sun and the upcoming festival. She had no fondness for the gods, perhaps only because they wanted nothing to do with her and she found herself rather bitter over it. Was it her fault that a bunch of people rose up against them like a billion years before she was born? Okay fine, it was maybe a couple hundred or whatever but still, it was well before her. “Does Safrin enjoy music?” she asks, not teasing but actually curious because it’s not like she would know. Safrin is nothing but a myth to Weaver.
She fidgets with a knife on her belt in an absent-minded sort of way. There’s nothing threatening about the gesture, but rather something instinctual, as if her whole life has been with knives around her waist. This was largely true, too. “Born and raised in Halo, so I’ve never been anywhere else until now. So new to the Hallowed Grounds, but not to Caido. It’s rather strange to be able to leave Halo, honestly.” It was wonderful and terrifying, all at once. Change was both a good and bad thing, she knew, but she didn’t know if it would prove to be a better or worse thing for Halo as a whole. “How about you?” his accent suggests he’s an outlander, but she decides not to assume for once and lets him answer as he wishes.
“I’ve been hearing her name around here a lot lately,” she says, remembering the conversation with Deimos about catching the sun and the upcoming festival. She had no fondness for the gods, perhaps only because they wanted nothing to do with her and she found herself rather bitter over it. Was it her fault that a bunch of people rose up against them like a billion years before she was born? Okay fine, it was maybe a couple hundred or whatever but still, it was well before her. “Does Safrin enjoy music?” she asks, not teasing but actually curious because it’s not like she would know. Safrin is nothing but a myth to Weaver.
She fidgets with a knife on her belt in an absent-minded sort of way. There’s nothing threatening about the gesture, but rather something instinctual, as if her whole life has been with knives around her waist. This was largely true, too. “Born and raised in Halo, so I’ve never been anywhere else until now. So new to the Hallowed Grounds, but not to Caido. It’s rather strange to be able to leave Halo, honestly.” It was wonderful and terrifying, all at once. Change was both a good and bad thing, she knew, but she didn’t know if it would prove to be a better or worse thing for Halo as a whole. “How about you?” his accent suggests he’s an outlander, but she decides not to assume for once and lets him answer as he wishes.
weaver
-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --
Quote by Charles Dickens
