sacrifice what you are for what you can become
Henry cast his blue gaze out towards the field as it expanded before them, the road disappearing in favor of dried grass. Dot snorted doubtfully beside him, but with a gentle prompt, he coaxed her onward. She picked her feet carefully enough, until they reached the garden and he asked her to stop, offering her more oats in the meantime.
If Belril was worried and nervous, it was because he ought to be, and Henry had nothing soothing to tell him. There were grim realities that lay ahead of them. Henry had doubts of if any of them would be able to successfully spy on people from the Order. If that was the case, they wouldn't truly be able to successfully fortify the Grounds. And if that were true, then... there would have to be a fight, wouldn't there? Even if the Grounds were shielded from the Order, there would likely be a fight anyway... or a battle, perhaps even a war. It all depended on everyone else, on if people would be quick to snuff out those who wished to commit genocide (or another dome).
Henry felt an aggravated pit forming in his stomach.
"Hopefully..." he agreed quietly, and not just for Belril. For him, for Amun, for Wessex, for the people that (knowingly or unknowingly) might need the safety. "It will require a great deal of deception. I'd imagine they are well-prepared against any kind of infiltration."
That was all the advice Henry had to offer on the subject, and he soon set to work on {carefully} helping Belril with the garden so that it could be moved back to the farm. He immersed himself in the dirt and leaves, for just a moment letting everything else roll off of his shoulders.
If Belril was worried and nervous, it was because he ought to be, and Henry had nothing soothing to tell him. There were grim realities that lay ahead of them. Henry had doubts of if any of them would be able to successfully spy on people from the Order. If that was the case, they wouldn't truly be able to successfully fortify the Grounds. And if that were true, then... there would have to be a fight, wouldn't there? Even if the Grounds were shielded from the Order, there would likely be a fight anyway... or a battle, perhaps even a war. It all depended on everyone else, on if people would be quick to snuff out those who wished to commit genocide (or another dome).
Henry felt an aggravated pit forming in his stomach.
"Hopefully..." he agreed quietly, and not just for Belril. For him, for Amun, for Wessex, for the people that (knowingly or unknowingly) might need the safety. "It will require a great deal of deception. I'd imagine they are well-prepared against any kind of infiltration."
That was all the advice Henry had to offer on the subject, and he soon set to work on {carefully} helping Belril with the garden so that it could be moved back to the farm. He immersed himself in the dirt and leaves, for just a moment letting everything else roll off of his shoulders.
HENRY
