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03-29-2017, 10:14 AM
Rikyn I am not the boy I was, then, having grown in the years between then, and now. Perhaps he is not the same man, either. Wondering if the new keeper of the Mirror is as easy to provoke as his predecessors (that I recall, anyway), and hoping not for the sake of everyone else, I attempt to meet his gaze, and the newly made Corporal’s, regardless of my thoughts or past indiscretions, with a fleeting smile of actual gratitude fitting oddly on my face. Though they may not know it, my father’s machines were just that – my father’s. Though he had died, maybe the twin soldiers he had spent so much of his life tending to, and creating, could live on in his stead. Though I hear Oizys, occasionally grinning at her choice of words, when one pierces through my ruminations and memories, briefly imagining what some of the herd’s faces look like as she talks about useful things in the crassest way imaginable, I fall inside myself. Coming up for air only when Tiamat lifts her voice again, I’m relieved to hear that she, too, thinks that the Sentinels are worth saving, and also glad that there seems to be a plan in place for the wolves. I’ll be glad for their protection, sure, but I’d rather not have to risk dealing with the wild ones in the interim. Already pondering how to avoid those tasks, a much more potent cure for the morose thoughts threatening to spill over into my consciousness, I quickly decide that, well, it must be time to get my Thief on. "Anything but wolves," I mutter to myself, making my way towards the enchanted tent. ’cause we need a little controversy
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