who we are and all that we're trying to be
“Thank you,” came out of a grateful grumble, eyes downcast, a frenetic pulse beginning to thrum and drum within his ears. With nothing about Hotaru, he figured his stay within these folds of the tranquil river, of the peace and quiet, were at a justifiable end – glance going briefly to his companions, before his head tilted at the inquiry, and it was eventually raised back to look at the Fae.
Even if he couldn’t hear it in her voice, there seemed to be a judgment hanging over the throng; or perhaps it was the weight of his own consequences, bearing down, down, down on his spine and shoulders, and any more plausible weight would surely snap it in two. The Sword swallowed down all the bile threatening to reside and coil, standing straighter and taller than he felt. “Safrin made it clear that Morgan’s claim of neutrality would not last, given her relationship with Neron. She said Halo would eventually turn to the Voice, and gave the task of ensuring Halo belonged to the Old Gods.” And Deimos had tried, a little, to piece together the potential for swaying, but all he’d received were lies. “So we did that – peacefully, and Morgan was allowed to leave.” A poor call on their part; given what happened thereafter. The man paused there, waiting; uncertain of what else Noah had already pressed into the fold.
It takes dying to know
How to live as ghosts
