"I know." The faintest flicker, a painful snag at the corner of her mouth, because the scrip is less painful, even if she already diverged from it.
"I promise there wasn't a single templar involved." What used to be gently impertinent when she could get away with it and bygone when she could not is now--
Shaky. Shaken. The storm doesn't how which way to rage. Herian hasn't sobbed since the day she saw her father murdered, but the Spire has come close.
Enchanter LeBlanc walks closer and for a moment she is the young woman looking at her mentor across the chaos, with a bloody sword in her hand. She is lost.
Herian is harsher, now. Less soft playfulness, more muscle and tension. Her mouth snags, but doesn't waver. "Name the topic. I'd write--" A compelling essay on an obnoxious subject, but she can't quite say it.
no subject
"I promise there wasn't a single templar involved." What used to be gently impertinent when she could get away with it and bygone when she could not is now--
Shaky. Shaken. The storm doesn't how which way to rage. Herian hasn't sobbed since the day she saw her father murdered, but the Spire has come close.
Enchanter LeBlanc walks closer and for a moment she is the young woman looking at her mentor across the chaos, with a bloody sword in her hand. She is lost.
Herian is harsher, now. Less soft playfulness, more muscle and tension. Her mouth snags, but doesn't waver. "Name the topic. I'd write--" A compelling essay on an obnoxious subject, but she can't quite say it.