05-31-2018, 05:52 PM
Radeken looked at Margaery, inwardly exasperated and outwardly grinning around the drawstrings of the pouch she carried. She let it down carefully, watching the cat closely for a moment. Radeken shrugged in response to the question. “[color=black]Supply run.” She gestured to her findings. It was an obvious lie, but she didn’t care that it was.
The young wolf peered at Xion, and then she dipped her nose down.”[color=black]Radeken. Cleric.” And a truly shitty one, at that. Because something must’ve happened. Because she doubted Suiteheart and Lunafreya would be dripping malice as she approached if it hadn’t. Radeken almost wanted to ask, but Luna helped her fit the puzzle together. Starry’s gone. Well, shit.
“[color=black]Shame.” She noted flippantly, staring at the bag that had been tossed her way. She did feel something. Embarrassed, a little frustrated. None of it was on the behalf of her colleagues, though she knew she probably owed them groveling and repentance. Or, that they expected it, maybe. Or maybe they just expect me to be where I’m supposed to be, doing the job I volunteered to do. Hm. Maybe.
Regardless, they wouldn’t get an apology. Not a genuine one, anyway. “[color=black]How did he die?” She asked conversationally. It would drive her mad were it something she knew how to treat, but she was just too damned curious to keep the question off her lips. The rest of the information churned in the back of her mind. Two pregnancies. Injured joiners. She made a mental list of what both parties would likely need, fitting Suiteheart’s bag onto herself. Check-ups later would be a must. Like the ones you were supposed to do ages ago. Oh well.
The young wolf peered at Xion, and then she dipped her nose down.”[color=black]Radeken. Cleric.” And a truly shitty one, at that. Because something must’ve happened. Because she doubted Suiteheart and Lunafreya would be dripping malice as she approached if it hadn’t. Radeken almost wanted to ask, but Luna helped her fit the puzzle together. Starry’s gone. Well, shit.
“[color=black]Shame.” She noted flippantly, staring at the bag that had been tossed her way. She did feel something. Embarrassed, a little frustrated. None of it was on the behalf of her colleagues, though she knew she probably owed them groveling and repentance. Or, that they expected it, maybe. Or maybe they just expect me to be where I’m supposed to be, doing the job I volunteered to do. Hm. Maybe.
Regardless, they wouldn’t get an apology. Not a genuine one, anyway. “[color=black]How did he die?” She asked conversationally. It would drive her mad were it something she knew how to treat, but she was just too damned curious to keep the question off her lips. The rest of the information churned in the back of her mind. Two pregnancies. Injured joiners. She made a mental list of what both parties would likely need, fitting Suiteheart’s bag onto herself. Check-ups later would be a must. Like the ones you were supposed to do ages ago. Oh well.