Your kind has already stolen enough from me. See to it that you don't follow in their footsteps.
[His fingers slide across the strings in a motion that would be more befitting of a different stringed instrument entirely - but he keeps them firm on the strings nevertheless, keeping them still, keeping them silent.]
...What did take her, in the end? You already know, don't you?
[He has so little to shape what's missing from himself. A sense of purpose. A time locked up. He can't narrow it down enough. He can't give Lilia any more.]
So negotiations have failed, hmm? ...Some things never change.
[That much, he remembers, even now. Raverne, who cared for humans, enough to learn their language and teach a lowly servant like Lilia. Raverne, who decided their first act would not be a declaration of war, but of diplomacy, heading out to meet with the very humans who threatened their home.
Raverne, who would never return, never nurture his child to hatching, never be known...]
[Abruptly, he stands to leave, the zither abandoned in his place. It will sort itself out once he's gone; there's no need to waste any particular care on it.]
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no subject
Your kind has already stolen enough from me. See to it that you don't follow in their footsteps.
[His fingers slide across the strings in a motion that would be more befitting of a different stringed instrument entirely - but he keeps them firm on the strings nevertheless, keeping them still, keeping them silent.]
...What did take her, in the end? You already know, don't you?
no subject
[Crueler than he intends, behind its softness.]
And I'm not about to owe you any favors.
[He has so little to shape what's missing from himself. A sense of purpose. A time locked up. He can't narrow it down enough. He can't give Lilia any more.]
1/2
So negotiations have failed, hmm? ...Some things never change.
[That much, he remembers, even now. Raverne, who cared for humans, enough to learn their language and teach a lowly servant like Lilia. Raverne, who decided their first act would not be a declaration of war, but of diplomacy, heading out to meet with the very humans who threatened their home.
Raverne, who would never return, never nurture his child to hatching, never be known...]
no subject
Then I suppose there's nothing else to be said.
[Abruptly, he stands to leave, the zither abandoned in his place. It will sort itself out once he's gone; there's no need to waste any particular care on it.]