We don't have 200 years. We'll be lucky if we have twenty years.
That's just the tip of the 'everything is horrible and we're all going to die' diatribe she's been slipping more and more into as time passes. It's a tempting response, but Alistair is trying to--comfort? Calm her concerns? Just be a know-it-all jerk? She used to be good at reading him. He used to have an easily read face. Once again, she votes for the tentative peace.
...Trying to think of anything that isn't pessimistic is tricky. She fiddles with another arrow in the meantime.
"I suppose it's possible, that in 200 years everything will be calm again. That this entire period of time will just be a particularly grim chapter in the history books. Some day children will get bored in class, as their teacher tries to tell them about how the Inquisition fought a hopeless fight." She nocks the arrow, and takes more time preparing this time. Old, forgotten memories of a scrawny teenager who was more limb than elf, holding a bow that wasn't much better than this one.
"The deep dark before dawn's first light seems eternal," She readies the bow, and takes a deep breath. "But know that the sun always rises." Then the arrow is released, and Beleth can only stare in astonishment as it lands nearly dead center. Slowly, she turns to look at the bow, still held in the firing position, with an expression as if she expected it to come alive in her hands. "...Goddamn."
no subject
That's just the tip of the 'everything is horrible and we're all going to die' diatribe she's been slipping more and more into as time passes. It's a tempting response, but Alistair is trying to--comfort? Calm her concerns? Just be a know-it-all jerk? She used to be good at reading him. He used to have an easily read face. Once again, she votes for the tentative peace.
...Trying to think of anything that isn't pessimistic is tricky. She fiddles with another arrow in the meantime.
"I suppose it's possible, that in 200 years everything will be calm again. That this entire period of time will just be a particularly grim chapter in the history books. Some day children will get bored in class, as their teacher tries to tell them about how the Inquisition fought a hopeless fight." She nocks the arrow, and takes more time preparing this time. Old, forgotten memories of a scrawny teenager who was more limb than elf, holding a bow that wasn't much better than this one.
"The deep dark before dawn's first light seems eternal," She readies the bow, and takes a deep breath. "But know that the sun always rises." Then the arrow is released, and Beleth can only stare in astonishment as it lands nearly dead center. Slowly, she turns to look at the bow, still held in the firing position, with an expression as if she expected it to come alive in her hands. "...Goddamn."