05-21-2018, 08:48 PM
we are crooked souls trying to stay up straight
“I have not seen her, Amorette. I am afraid her scent has died on the wind.”His voice is solemn, and his face suddenly grave. It is not a good sign - a missing person, let alone a refugee that has come here for sanctuary. It made the Overseer uneasy, and wondered how her disappearance would affect her loved ones. His jaw clenches beneath the sharp angles of his face, lifting his chin slightly as if to hide the emotion that flourishes there. He cannot protect them like he said he could, and it burns like heaping coals in his throat. “We must be prepared for anything, Amorette.” The words are an echo of the same he had said to Wound; the world around them is hungry and starving, and they must be ready for the actions they might have to endure.
There is a pause in the conversation but he barely notices. Her voice then alerts him and a single ear flickers towards her, brows rising in thought. “I...I don’t know.” There is a sound of a laugh in his chest, a wrinkle of his nose showing his amusement. “I guess that isn’t a good sign, is it?” He chuckles then, lightly tossing his head in disbelief. “I’m about to be a father again, you know. Any day now.” He’s grinning, set alight by the thought. He thinks of Tangerine, in the grotto, and his eyes are clear for the time being. Another thought strikes him, and he turns his face towards Amorette. “And also a grandfather,” he adds quickly, watching her for a reaction. He had almost forgotten the news that Solace had given him, and in that moment he remembers her face (the smell of Hyaline, wild and robust) and he is no longer the Overseer.
He is just Warrick, walking along his beach with his friend.
Warrick
@[Amorette]