or have it cut from your head
While others might be intimidated with the way she was covered by Safrin's grace and love, Abraham was not. He was loyal to Ludo, that was true and sure and solid as stone, but that did not mean that the accepted could not appreciate (was that the right word? probably not) still the work of another herald. Dismissing his own trainee -- a fumbling idiot, in his own opinion -- Abraham moved towards Seren.
"You'll have to get a proper weapon made for you, if you keep it up with that." He gestured to the spear-like weapon with his chin. "If its not properly weight and adjusted for your body, skill won't ever matter." His voice was level and even, calm and lacking his usual sharp edge. Not that it wouldn't appear -- it just wasn't there in the moment.
by keeping whispers unsaid
