KORBIN
But what does it take to break you, to awake you?
To make you bow and spit it out?
To make you bow and spit it out?
An actual smile cut a slash through his face. It was tight lipped and strained, painful looking as the facial muscles had forgotten how to move, but it was there. "You sound just like Weaver," he murmured, softening with impossible tenderness. Heartwrenching, because it was only a shadow of what he actually felt, a pale reflection of love unspent. Her words, her outlook on life... it was like hearing the Scythe speak from beyond and Korbin didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
He had to look away, gaze trailing off aimlessly, the glass returning to his lips. Only the burn down his throat kept him from weeping on the spot, and it took many long breaths before he had his voice under control again.
Trying to recall what he knew of the guild helped keep his thoughts away from his sister. "The guild master's name is Jigano Silversmith. He is a hybrid... both mage and shapeshifter, or so I've heard. They're based in the Hollowed Ground... I think... no, sorry. That's really all I know."
Raking rough fingers through the unruly hair, Korbin shook his head. All he knew had been gleaned from notes on an ads board and a brief conversation with a fellow raven. Not exactly reliable sources.
"What's your name?" he asked, almost reluctant. It would have been better not to, but he was too tempted to just let this woman become a pale imitation of who he had lost. It wouldn't be fair, to her or Weaver... or to himself.
He had to look away, gaze trailing off aimlessly, the glass returning to his lips. Only the burn down his throat kept him from weeping on the spot, and it took many long breaths before he had his voice under control again.
Trying to recall what he knew of the guild helped keep his thoughts away from his sister. "The guild master's name is Jigano Silversmith. He is a hybrid... both mage and shapeshifter, or so I've heard. They're based in the Hollowed Ground... I think... no, sorry. That's really all I know."
Raking rough fingers through the unruly hair, Korbin shook his head. All he knew had been gleaned from notes on an ads board and a brief conversation with a fellow raven. Not exactly reliable sources.
"What's your name?" he asked, almost reluctant. It would have been better not to, but he was too tempted to just let this woman become a pale imitation of who he had lost. It wouldn't be fair, to her or Weaver... or to himself.
Doesn't matter if I hate you or embrace you
Nothing makes you turn around
Nothing makes you turn around
