She doesn't miss that flash of anger, instinctively worried that it's directed at her, but then she understands: he's ashamed. She bites her lip, wanting to tell him that it's all right, he's as blameless as anyone can be who has been turned feral, but she fears pointing this out will only upset him more. Perhaps, she decides, there is a way to make that point more obliquely.
I am friends with the worgen werewolf. The Nightmare made him feral. Normally he is nice. Only hurts bad people. He was very sad about hurting you. She remembers all too well that downtrodden look on Harrowheart's bestial face, the guilt coming off of him in waves. What a terrible night for him, and for Jim...
Looking over the drawing, she's as flummoxed as he is. What the heck is that thing?? Is it a Great One? It certainly looks unusual enough to be a Great One. It doesn't sound like Jim actually saw it in his Nightmare, or he'd at least recognize it. She mulls over his words, as much to understand them as to put together a reply. He doesn't want to talk about his Nightmare, she can tell that easily enough from his body language. The Great One gave me my rune she confirms. Is it worth explaining in more detail? She looks up at him, then back down at her notebook.
Slowly, she draws a creature in the blank corner of the page. A round, lumpy body with only two appendages: giant, claw-like hands at the ends of long, spindly arms. She gives it a dozen eyes, each one turned down in a nearly cartoonish expression of sadness. Great One she writes underneath it. Brain of Mensis. It touched me in the Nightmare twice. Both times, it hurt so much. Blood --
She stops writing, miming blood coming from her nose and eyes, before writing again.
It was suffering, and I felt it suffer. It did not mean to make me suffer. When my friend and I helped it, that is when it must have given me the rune.
Maybe that's why she seems so calm about her own experience. For all that she suffered, she was able to do some good anyway.
His unhappy mutter makes her look back up. She shifts uncomfortably in her seat and nods. Once again, Micolash's reputation precedes him. It wasn't his fault what happened, but I don't think he is sorry, either. Talking to him gave me answers, but I did not like some of them. Her gaze returns to her drawing, to those sad eyes. How much worse it is, to know what was behind their suffering.
She frowns and brings the tip of her pencil down on Micolash's effigy, striking a line through his smiling visage.
no subject
I am friends with the
worgenwerewolf. The Nightmare made him feral. Normally he is nice. Only hurts bad people. He was very sad about hurting you. She remembers all too well that downtrodden look on Harrowheart's bestial face, the guilt coming off of him in waves. What a terrible night for him, and for Jim...Looking over the drawing, she's as flummoxed as he is. What the heck is that thing?? Is it a Great One? It certainly looks unusual enough to be a Great One. It doesn't sound like Jim actually saw it in his Nightmare, or he'd at least recognize it. She mulls over his words, as much to understand them as to put together a reply. He doesn't want to talk about his Nightmare, she can tell that easily enough from his body language. The Great One gave me my rune she confirms. Is it worth explaining in more detail? She looks up at him, then back down at her notebook.
Slowly, she draws a creature in the blank corner of the page. A round, lumpy body with only two appendages: giant, claw-like hands at the ends of long, spindly arms. She gives it a dozen eyes, each one turned down in a nearly cartoonish expression of sadness. Great One she writes underneath it. Brain of Mensis. It touched me in the Nightmare twice. Both times, it hurt so much. Blood --
She stops writing, miming blood coming from her nose and eyes, before writing again.
It was suffering, and I felt it suffer. It did not mean to make me suffer. When my friend and I helped it, that is when it must have given me the rune.
Maybe that's why she seems so calm about her own experience. For all that she suffered, she was able to do some good anyway.
His unhappy mutter makes her look back up. She shifts uncomfortably in her seat and nods. Once again, Micolash's reputation precedes him. It wasn't his fault what happened, but I don't think he is sorry, either. Talking to him gave me answers, but I did not like some of them. Her gaze returns to her drawing, to those sad eyes. How much worse it is, to know what was behind their suffering.
She frowns and brings the tip of her pencil down on Micolash's effigy, striking a line through his smiling visage.