when it's just the two of us, only the two of us
Remi's look is taken with the gravity that he gives it, Isla meeting his eyes, a mixture of surprised and confused to hear him speak so. Her lips part as if to argue, until it dawns on her that he's speaking about Mateo's other parent. So often overlooked, it's suddenly very clear that unless the heralds wished to take out two of their supposed warriors, neither man was quite as obligated to follow their orders to the letter as it might seem at first.
"I see," she says - because what else is there to say to that? Remi, closer to the old gods than (arguably) anyone else in the Grounds, is privy to information that Isla can only dream about. And her pebble blues widen even as the rest of her sags with relief when he says it, that the war might not be quite so imminent. "Oh thank goodness," she whispers, rubbing at her forehead with sandy fingers.
As for the Ascended, when it came to what she was capable of doing? "Oh, on the contrary. I get the distinct impression of some sort of vicious glee, whenever I consider it too closely. As if I hold the key to somehow solving the war, if only they could convince me to stop being quite such a wet blanket about it."
"I see," she says - because what else is there to say to that? Remi, closer to the old gods than (arguably) anyone else in the Grounds, is privy to information that Isla can only dream about. And her pebble blues widen even as the rest of her sags with relief when he says it, that the war might not be quite so imminent. "Oh thank goodness," she whispers, rubbing at her forehead with sandy fingers.
As for the Ascended, when it came to what she was capable of doing? "Oh, on the contrary. I get the distinct impression of some sort of vicious glee, whenever I consider it too closely. As if I hold the key to somehow solving the war, if only they could convince me to stop being quite such a wet blanket about it."
i could die
Isla
