The bard winced internally at hearing how Amalia had offered her companion first, knowing that the pious woman's faith in Vi often painted Safrin as rosier than the tempestuous goddess had ever appeared to him. Sunjata would have had no reason to doubt her, though; if he hadn't had his own experiences to the contrary, he would have believed in her Natural expertise, too.
No, that would be yourself, the dragon thought back, cold and angry but taken aback a bit by the sheer fear in the Attuned bond. Part of him had wanted to startle Sunjata, yes, and a dark, angry piece of him drank that fear in, but the rest of him recoiled from it. Who, indeed? he asked, drawing away with a rumble of discontent. Ingrid had told me about them. I had some sense of their size and how inhospitable they are to intruders, thanks to her. Any Halo native could have told you of them, even if you didn't want to come to me. Not a first thought, no, but perhaps a fourth or fifth. Anything, if it would have saved Adam and Peter.
Lasting relationships? he repeated softly, as he looked out over the sea. She thought you were going with her, you know. To Halo. Thought you would support her. But instead you came... here. How long did her friendships from Halo last before she chased you to Torchline and into the sea? He heaved a dragon-sized sigh, shaking his horned head fiercely. He settled his length full upon the ground, shaking the nearby earth as he stretched out, the broad vanes of his tail flatterning along its length. No. I made my choice. You made yours. And she... made hers. I told her that I trusted her to spread her own wings, and that's what she did. Not I, nor you, nor Zariah could do that for her. It was just Caido's damned murderous luck that she had flown too close to the sun with those wings before she had been strong enough to survive the heat.
A sideways glance at the sneer, a note of how natural it looked on the Korofian's face, and an idle speculation on whether Sunjata more resembled his father or his mother... I don't know what works for you, he agreed, frustrated with the shattered emotional wreckage Sunjata left in his wake; first Phoebe, then Maea, now... whoever had the misfortune to fall into bed with him next. But you've got two examples in your very recent history of what hasn't worked before. Thank the gods Phoebe was still alive, or he'd worry that Sunjata had gotten himself cursed. Not an idle possibility on this world.
No, that would be yourself, the dragon thought back, cold and angry but taken aback a bit by the sheer fear in the Attuned bond. Part of him had wanted to startle Sunjata, yes, and a dark, angry piece of him drank that fear in, but the rest of him recoiled from it. Who, indeed? he asked, drawing away with a rumble of discontent. Ingrid had told me about them. I had some sense of their size and how inhospitable they are to intruders, thanks to her. Any Halo native could have told you of them, even if you didn't want to come to me. Not a first thought, no, but perhaps a fourth or fifth. Anything, if it would have saved Adam and Peter.
Lasting relationships? he repeated softly, as he looked out over the sea. She thought you were going with her, you know. To Halo. Thought you would support her. But instead you came... here. How long did her friendships from Halo last before she chased you to Torchline and into the sea? He heaved a dragon-sized sigh, shaking his horned head fiercely. He settled his length full upon the ground, shaking the nearby earth as he stretched out, the broad vanes of his tail flatterning along its length. No. I made my choice. You made yours. And she... made hers. I told her that I trusted her to spread her own wings, and that's what she did. Not I, nor you, nor Zariah could do that for her. It was just Caido's damned murderous luck that she had flown too close to the sun with those wings before she had been strong enough to survive the heat.
A sideways glance at the sneer, a note of how natural it looked on the Korofian's face, and an idle speculation on whether Sunjata more resembled his father or his mother... I don't know what works for you, he agreed, frustrated with the shattered emotional wreckage Sunjata left in his wake; first Phoebe, then Maea, now... whoever had the misfortune to fall into bed with him next. But you've got two examples in your very recent history of what hasn't worked before. Thank the gods Phoebe was still alive, or he'd worry that Sunjata had gotten himself cursed. Not an idle possibility on this world.
