"There are mages who leap to fight," He's thinking again of Voss, he's thinking she deliberates far more than some records would credit. "Who keep a poor check upon their wants, their fears. They don't last."
Had the man in the dining hall been afraid? Must have been, somewhere far below. It's seldom so simple as one demon, as two.
Isaac drinks, and prepares as he has a hundred times to fake the swallow, some little spill. Lets it curl in his mouth instead, a wide bilious flavour; stinging with remembered impact. Whiskey will never not taste like eating dirt.
no subject
Is a quip — and diverging from the point, so —
"There are mages who leap to fight," He's thinking again of Voss, he's thinking she deliberates far more than some records would credit. "Who keep a poor check upon their wants, their fears. They don't last."
Had the man in the dining hall been afraid? Must have been, somewhere far below. It's seldom so simple as one demon, as two.
Isaac drinks, and prepares as he has a hundred times to fake the swallow, some little spill. Lets it curl in his mouth instead, a wide bilious flavour; stinging with remembered impact. Whiskey will never not taste like eating dirt.
"You have."