Zandros sighs as he laughs and his bright eyes go a little watery. Isidor, you've brought such relief, such emotion to your fiance!
"Wonderful!" he exclaims, then looks between the Weatherhills. Each of them begins to smile, Jacob a touch quicker than Heather. "Oh, Isidor," Zandros says, "We all knew you were a just leader. This is only more evidence of the truth."
Now Heather slightly squints her eyes, and dubiousness shadows her face. She starts to open her mouth, but Zandros, seeing this, continues his act.
"Perhaps the hunger is getting to all of us. Weatherhills, you know me well as a man of the Light and a friend of your brothers. Magnanimous, benevolent... But would you believe that just this morning I failed to bite my tongue and began to call a man a cur for trampling my feet? Oh, I regret it terribly. But, you see, it was the hunger, I'm certain of it. We all say things more brusquely than we normally would when we want as we do, is that not true? Have we not all felt that creep of the Shadow, that crease of the brow and heat in the blood when we are without?"
Jacob laughs quietly and begins to nod, and Heather's suspicion turns slowly to thought. Could that really have been it? Could her physical state have affected her mood so badly that she might have acted out of turn? Perhaps... Perhaps Zandros was right? The hunger got to her mind. It made her lash out. Made her speak out of turn.
And what had she said? Oh, Light. She'd almost forgotten already. Horrible, terribly rude things...
Her cheeks flush and her eyes flit away from Isidor when she reflects on the scene that passed between them. She embarrassed herself in so many ways, and publicly no less.
"You must be right," she says, her voice hardly above a whisper. "It was the hunger that made me say what I said. Isidor, I..."
Her lips purse. She tries to look up, but she can't find it in herself. Blinking, her gaze still toward the ground, she mutters, "Isidor, I'm so sorry. Forget the things I said. I didn't mean any of them."
Jacob seizes on the opportunity to put his arms around his wife and say a little louder what she failed to: "We won't break any more rules, Isidor, we promise. Thank you for your understanding."
no subject
"Wonderful!" he exclaims, then looks between the Weatherhills. Each of them begins to smile, Jacob a touch quicker than Heather. "Oh, Isidor," Zandros says, "We all knew you were a just leader. This is only more evidence of the truth."
Now Heather slightly squints her eyes, and dubiousness shadows her face. She starts to open her mouth, but Zandros, seeing this, continues his act.
"Perhaps the hunger is getting to all of us. Weatherhills, you know me well as a man of the Light and a friend of your brothers. Magnanimous, benevolent... But would you believe that just this morning I failed to bite my tongue and began to call a man a cur for trampling my feet? Oh, I regret it terribly. But, you see, it was the hunger, I'm certain of it. We all say things more brusquely than we normally would when we want as we do, is that not true? Have we not all felt that creep of the Shadow, that crease of the brow and heat in the blood when we are without?"
Jacob laughs quietly and begins to nod, and Heather's suspicion turns slowly to thought. Could that really have been it? Could her physical state have affected her mood so badly that she might have acted out of turn? Perhaps... Perhaps Zandros was right? The hunger got to her mind. It made her lash out. Made her speak out of turn.
And what had she said? Oh, Light. She'd almost forgotten already. Horrible, terribly rude things...
Her cheeks flush and her eyes flit away from Isidor when she reflects on the scene that passed between them. She embarrassed herself in so many ways, and publicly no less.
"You must be right," she says, her voice hardly above a whisper. "It was the hunger that made me say what I said. Isidor, I..."
Her lips purse. She tries to look up, but she can't find it in herself. Blinking, her gaze still toward the ground, she mutters, "Isidor, I'm so sorry. Forget the things I said. I didn't mean any of them."
Jacob seizes on the opportunity to put his arms around his wife and say a little louder what she failed to: "We won't break any more rules, Isidor, we promise. Thank you for your understanding."