LOREN
As Loren watched Neron gather up the body and heard the Warden’s words, his lips scowled briefly before he smoothed them into a more neutral expression. "I found one. And he died." The words were intended to cut against his twin's rather callous response to the healer's grief.
As Neron laid the body on the bed, Loren let the door swing shut. Raising a hand, he called upon the dregs of his magic: a coating of ice appeared over the corpse, preserving it as best he could. Then he padded over to a corner and grabbed the unicorn horn.
He held it out to the Warden without comment. "I can take it from here. I'll gather my things and meet you in Halo." There was no particular inflection to the response. Then the healer's eyes tightened. "Thank you." It came out reluctantly, without any real gratitude behind it.
As Neron laid the body on the bed, Loren let the door swing shut. Raising a hand, he called upon the dregs of his magic: a coating of ice appeared over the corpse, preserving it as best he could. Then he padded over to a corner and grabbed the unicorn horn.
He held it out to the Warden without comment. "I can take it from here. I'll gather my things and meet you in Halo." There was no particular inflection to the response. Then the healer's eyes tightened. "Thank you." It came out reluctantly, without any real gratitude behind it.
But don’t be weary if it’s broken
Families are like that—
they’re split up and always torn.
