to a discordant melody

KORBIN

And round about his home the glory
That blushed and bloomed,

The humor faded from the boys gaze when Sunjata didn't take up the challenge. His lips twisted at the reply, frustration and contempt expressed even though his actual emotions were kept firmly walled up and concealed.

"Don't talk like you know anything about this place, or its people, Outlander," he said, voice flat. "You don't belong here, and with an attitude like that you will never be welcome. Weaver might accept you, but believe me, she is the exception."

It might look like welcome, to have food prepared and liquour poured, but it was not. And the way the young man scooped up stew and threw the bowl onto the table before Sunjata was somehow turned into an insult. Every movement screaming a silent 'get out, get out.'

"Enjoy," he said with a mocking half bow. Then he turned to stalk off, intending to leave the Outlander alone with his meal. Korbin didnt even care to see the reaction to the musty, pungent dish; it was more than edible, and he didn't want to hear praise from this person. Would choke on it, for sure.

Is but a dim-remembered story
Of the old time entombed.

SUNJATA

the flood

'cause we might as well be blind,
if seeing is believing, this parable's misleading

Ooh, the Outlander card is pulled. It pulls a slight smirk from Sunjata’s lips to hear the man go off – making no move to correct or change it. And he could really care less about what the naturals think of him here in Halo, seeing as he’s not planning on sticking around. A nod is given instead, a slight understanding of it that despite what he thinks of Halo or it’s people, that it’s rather true to Sunjata all the same.

Besides, Korofi’s weather had been harsh too, and still their people were bloodthirsty and backwards. Halo was better in that regard. But he doesn’t get a chance to say it, not as he shifts and watches as the bowl gets tossed onto the table, spilling over a small amount and he watches Korbin half bow, stalking away. Well, that was that, wasn’t it?

He hadn’t planned on sticking around much longer anyway.

- FIN

you've got your shotgun loaded with excuses
— that you'll fire in vain —
but those 12 rounds just won't do