”No more than the usual,” she says with a chuckle. There was always grumbling in Halo, but really, the people didn’t much seem to care. They went about their lives preparing for Deepfrost, too busy to notice as others trickled in. ”I gather it was largely Loren’s doing, not Neron’s,” she adds, keenly aware that Loren has been filling in gaps for his brother. Unexplained gaps that Weaver was still waiting for a decent answer for, other than ‘indisposed’, which was a pile of general bull.
He goes on to actually explain the LongNight monsters, and she listens, gathering more information that anyone else has ever bothered to give. It’s a good answer, one that sheds light on why they run so afraid, why they cannot simply stay indoors as the rest of Caido has been led to believe. If everyone gave even half this answer, maybe the rest of them would better understand. Because this is not the same as simply staying inside against a raging blizzard. This is making a choice, one that could far too easily be the wrong one for so many reasons.
”No one has actually ever explained that to me, so thank you,” she says, with a kindness she previously lacked in regard to LongNight. Not that she had issues with refugees coming here to pass the season (she’d offer the rooms at the Kraai, if they were needed), but rather that she simply never really understood. How could she, having never lived it, and never been told? ”It is made to sound far simpler than that. Though I understand many do not wish to speak of such horrors.” Weaver was the opposite, willing to speak of almost anything, because the truth was normally better in the long run.
Weaver’s curiosity perks a little as he suggests ways to communicate outside of The Voice. She honestly doesn’t care much about The Voice and what she does, as long as she leaves Halo alone, but still, Weaver is always wary. Wary of the old gods, who task people with risking their life during LongNight, and wary of the new, who are little more than powerful humans. ”What are your thoughts on The Voice?” she asks, no judgment in her voice. She liked Wessex and Samuel, and they loved their Lady. To each their own, but she may as well gather all sides.
”I have been a hunter all my life. Until now, anyway. It will be nice not to have to venture into the tundra every day though.” Not to risk her life just to get meat on the table. ”Korofi, like the VlamVloed and Slagveld. Sunjata is the bar’s benefactor.” If Sunjata had wanted that to be kept a secret, then he wouldn’t have suggested a Korofi name.
He goes on to actually explain the LongNight monsters, and she listens, gathering more information that anyone else has ever bothered to give. It’s a good answer, one that sheds light on why they run so afraid, why they cannot simply stay indoors as the rest of Caido has been led to believe. If everyone gave even half this answer, maybe the rest of them would better understand. Because this is not the same as simply staying inside against a raging blizzard. This is making a choice, one that could far too easily be the wrong one for so many reasons.
”No one has actually ever explained that to me, so thank you,” she says, with a kindness she previously lacked in regard to LongNight. Not that she had issues with refugees coming here to pass the season (she’d offer the rooms at the Kraai, if they were needed), but rather that she simply never really understood. How could she, having never lived it, and never been told? ”It is made to sound far simpler than that. Though I understand many do not wish to speak of such horrors.” Weaver was the opposite, willing to speak of almost anything, because the truth was normally better in the long run.
Weaver’s curiosity perks a little as he suggests ways to communicate outside of The Voice. She honestly doesn’t care much about The Voice and what she does, as long as she leaves Halo alone, but still, Weaver is always wary. Wary of the old gods, who task people with risking their life during LongNight, and wary of the new, who are little more than powerful humans. ”What are your thoughts on The Voice?” she asks, no judgment in her voice. She liked Wessex and Samuel, and they loved their Lady. To each their own, but she may as well gather all sides.
”I have been a hunter all my life. Until now, anyway. It will be nice not to have to venture into the tundra every day though.” Not to risk her life just to get meat on the table. ”Korofi, like the VlamVloed and Slagveld. Sunjata is the bar’s benefactor.” If Sunjata had wanted that to be kept a secret, then he wouldn’t have suggested a Korofi name.
