Seen plenty of folks in a bad way. Swung the shovel a few times to end it, but that wouldn't fly here. It's quiet, even with door just leaned against frame. The girls left a while back — maybe an hour, maybe more.
Sorta lost count.
"You gotta piss?"
He asks, and doesn't expect an answer; uninterested in finding a bedpan. Just that it's the sort of thing you ask someone dying: Who do I write? Burn or bury? You gotta piss?
Lazar chews the end of an unlit cigarette. Never buys his own smokes, but the mage hides a case in his desk. Teeth grind, shred paper from tobacco. Forward. Backward.
"Sandar, that's my brother," He hasn't spoken much, either. Maybe it's the hour, sheets drenched in that funny light before dawn. "My older brother. Went like this with him."
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Seen plenty of folks in a bad way. Swung the shovel a few times to end it, but that wouldn't fly here. It's quiet, even with door just leaned against frame. The girls left a while back — maybe an hour, maybe more.
Sorta lost count.
"You gotta piss?"
He asks, and doesn't expect an answer; uninterested in finding a bedpan. Just that it's the sort of thing you ask someone dying: Who do I write? Burn or bury? You gotta piss?
Lazar chews the end of an unlit cigarette. Never buys his own smokes, but the mage hides a case in his desk. Teeth grind, shred paper from tobacco. Forward. Backward.
"Sandar, that's my brother," He hasn't spoken much, either. Maybe it's the hour, sheets drenched in that funny light before dawn. "My older brother. Went like this with him."