KORBIN
Leave my loneliness unbroken!
- quit the bust above my door!
- quit the bust above my door!
It sounded like lies. Korbin wanted it to be. If it were, then he might have found the strength to remain angry. But it was next to impossible to lie through the bond. Maybe in times of great peace and calm one might be able to filter out the right emotions to paint false pictures, but this certainly wasn't such a time.
And he couldn't block out Loren's projected emotions. Couldn't prevent them from reaching him, just like he had been unable to prevent the healing. The calm wasn't his, but it washed over him anyway. The comfort wasn't something he wanted, but he was wrapped up in it all the same, like another warm fur draped over hunched shoulders.
And what did you do when someone swore not to give up on you? What could he say? It was true, Korbin didn't want help. Despite the man's assurance it still felt like he was punished for something, taken revenge upon. If not hate, then what? He just couldn't believe that he meant anything to this person. Didn't want to. Didn't deserve it even if it was true, because he had done nothing to earn it.
Yet the raven was tired and lonely and weak. Perhaps the bird, or its body, or some deep hidden instinct still craved the life Korbin so vehemently tried to reject. Feeling Loren's gaze, it gazed back, a glint of blue among the shadows. And after what seemed like an age, it spread its wings and glided down through the air, and settled on the ground beside the healer. Hesitant, bewildered by its own actions, reaching and rejecting and curling in on itself all at once.
And he couldn't block out Loren's projected emotions. Couldn't prevent them from reaching him, just like he had been unable to prevent the healing. The calm wasn't his, but it washed over him anyway. The comfort wasn't something he wanted, but he was wrapped up in it all the same, like another warm fur draped over hunched shoulders.
And what did you do when someone swore not to give up on you? What could he say? It was true, Korbin didn't want help. Despite the man's assurance it still felt like he was punished for something, taken revenge upon. If not hate, then what? He just couldn't believe that he meant anything to this person. Didn't want to. Didn't deserve it even if it was true, because he had done nothing to earn it.
Yet the raven was tired and lonely and weak. Perhaps the bird, or its body, or some deep hidden instinct still craved the life Korbin so vehemently tried to reject. Feeling Loren's gaze, it gazed back, a glint of blue among the shadows. And after what seemed like an age, it spread its wings and glided down through the air, and settled on the ground beside the healer. Hesitant, bewildered by its own actions, reaching and rejecting and curling in on itself all at once.
Quoth the Raven,
"Nevermore."
"Nevermore."
