Deimos' reponse about his parents was nonsensical, but Morgan did her best to nod as if it were not; she did not think it would do him any good to argue with what he had to say for the moment. At least it was related, the ability to control flames apparently something of a family legacy. Nodding as she went to go and get the agreed-upon blankets, she looked over her shoulder and asked: "Were you close to your father, Deimos?"
Anything to try and distract from the deep sense of despair he gave off.
She watched Chulane try and convince him to take the Cider, unsure if it would work. Were Deimos the same as Neron, she would have been willing to cut her wrist open again, let him drink from there...but he wasn't and if he wouldn't drink, he would only grow thirstier. "You're thirsty, aren't you? It's apples. You could try just a sip and see if it hurts. Please, just try." Morgan encouraged, softly pushing the cup in his hands back towards him.
Anything to try and distract from the deep sense of despair he gave off.
She watched Chulane try and convince him to take the Cider, unsure if it would work. Were Deimos the same as Neron, she would have been willing to cut her wrist open again, let him drink from there...but he wasn't and if he wouldn't drink, he would only grow thirstier. "You're thirsty, aren't you? It's apples. You could try just a sip and see if it hurts. Please, just try." Morgan encouraged, softly pushing the cup in his hands back towards him.
MORGAN
Snakes are biting at my heels
The worries that refuse to let us go
The worries that refuse to let us go
