KORBIN
And round about his home the glory
That blushed and bloomed,
That blushed and bloomed,
The elbow connected, and though he did try, he couldn't quite twist away enough to let it land anywhere by where she aimed it. Air whooshed out of his lungs, though not enough to make him lose his breath entirely; he'd tightened the muscles of his abdomen in time. If barely.
Korbin felt her grow still. The silence that followed was oppressive, heavy with undercurrents. His pain, her worry, the many unspoken words hovering between them, begging to be uttered. He'd spilled the worst part... the rest was just explanation.
Should be easy, but it wasn't.
Korbin accepted the hand, let her help him up. "An exile. Looked like one of those thugs they banished three years ago... Dorgan I think?" Because even the cannibals had once been kin, friends, family. People, just like everyone else in Snowcloak. The boy's voice was quiet, and he couldn't quite bring himself to look at his sister. "He... he'd turned cannibal, Weaver. Went dawn crazed, wouldn't stop charging."
The fingers that clasped her wrist trembled, and he couldn't quite bring himself to let go of her.
Korbin felt her grow still. The silence that followed was oppressive, heavy with undercurrents. His pain, her worry, the many unspoken words hovering between them, begging to be uttered. He'd spilled the worst part... the rest was just explanation.
Should be easy, but it wasn't.
Korbin accepted the hand, let her help him up. "An exile. Looked like one of those thugs they banished three years ago... Dorgan I think?" Because even the cannibals had once been kin, friends, family. People, just like everyone else in Snowcloak. The boy's voice was quiet, and he couldn't quite bring himself to look at his sister. "He... he'd turned cannibal, Weaver. Went dawn crazed, wouldn't stop charging."
The fingers that clasped her wrist trembled, and he couldn't quite bring himself to let go of her.
Is but a dim-remembered story
Of the old time entombed.
Of the old time entombed.
