"I'm with her," and oh, he can understand that. Perhaps it's better than the alternative--better than a spirit with more native intelligence borrowing their memories of Sina and playing mimic with them. It's a particular trick that's never sat well with Myr, reminds him exactly why he's not keen on spirits, especially when they wear the forms of the dead. But simply an image...
That's better. That's acceptable.
"They're fine," he reassures her, "it's what I'm seeing with them that's--not." There's a strange note of guilt in there; everyone else in the Gallows was dealing barefaced and open-eyed with whatever came at them (or not, as the case might be) and here he is giving up the sight a woman died for not to. At least this is only a temporary measure, one easily undone--as he slips a thumb under the blindfold to uncover an eye and show her, with a wink.
He sneaks a look at Sina's image after, heart catching in his throat at the sight of her. "Maker," soft as a prayer, "I didn't remember her being so thin."
no subject
That's better. That's acceptable.
"They're fine," he reassures her, "it's what I'm seeing with them that's--not." There's a strange note of guilt in there; everyone else in the Gallows was dealing barefaced and open-eyed with whatever came at them (or not, as the case might be) and here he is giving up the sight a woman died for not to. At least this is only a temporary measure, one easily undone--as he slips a thumb under the blindfold to uncover an eye and show her, with a wink.
He sneaks a look at Sina's image after, heart catching in his throat at the sight of her. "Maker," soft as a prayer, "I didn't remember her being so thin."