As Darkeye took out a knife and held it over his scarred arm, Amun eyed it. Glancing between the other man and the weapon, the potter shook his head. "Not right now. Maybe at some other time, when we get to know each other better." He let out a huff of air that resembled a laugh, but wasn't quite there.
Sighing, he rubbed his hands over his eyes. "And what of the Ascended, as I asked already? You'd just leave all of us to die by killing the Voice?" Lowering his hands, he stared at the smith for a long moment. Then the Ascended turned to watch the blast furnace to make sure nothing would go wrong with it.
Sighing, he rubbed his hands over his eyes. "And what of the Ascended, as I asked already? You'd just leave all of us to die by killing the Voice?" Lowering his hands, he stared at the smith for a long moment. Then the Ascended turned to watch the blast furnace to make sure nothing would go wrong with it.
amun
