neron
”Wise and beautiful,” Neron quips about Morgan’s decisions not to go chasing the dead once they were already gone. It was a sentiment they shared, undoubtedly - but there would have to be more on that later, given the sudden new developments. ”My hero,” he murmurs, unable to stop his mouth from running off without him, but the smile he shoots over his shoulder is nonetheless grateful.
They head through the back of the bar, past the kitchens and in towards the stock room, where it’s blowing a gale, frankly. There’s another slam - the culprit, it turns out, is an empty crate being blown all over the storage area from an open back door. ”I haven’t checked out here yet... must have blown open,” Neron reasons. Or something - someone, if they were unlucky - has snuck in while they haven’t been looking, and is now running around the Kraai.
”Can you give me a hand?” The back door (which leads out into the pitch black street) is tightly wedged open, and needs to be locked up regardless of the state of the bar.
They head through the back of the bar, past the kitchens and in towards the stock room, where it’s blowing a gale, frankly. There’s another slam - the culprit, it turns out, is an empty crate being blown all over the storage area from an open back door. ”I haven’t checked out here yet... must have blown open,” Neron reasons. Or something - someone, if they were unlucky - has snuck in while they haven’t been looking, and is now running around the Kraai.
”Can you give me a hand?” The back door (which leads out into the pitch black street) is tightly wedged open, and needs to be locked up regardless of the state of the bar.
lay your hand on me, one last time
