The Offer on My Head, Still Stands

It had taken him several days to collect himself after their hunt through the mines- for the echos of his mind’s demon to fall silent once again. Based on the recount from Sephiran, and the gruesome scene he found to match the story- the scent of blood that clung to his already russet coat. He finally accepted that he had played a part in the girl’s demise, though that wasn’t necessarily the part that concerned him. Why couldn’t he remember doing it? The chase through the caves was hazy. He remembered the pursuit, but his point of view faded in the shadowed gauntlet of the mine system. He couldn’t hear her screams over the visceral racket inside his head … and then nothing.

In the days since he had been alone. Sephiran had been off pursuing a different venture and had only returned to show off his newest surprise. Of course, after the last thrill-seeking adventure, he simply wasn’t sure of what to expect. But based on how excited his accomplice was, he had to wonder if it was something in a similar vein. Aresenn had been fairly quiet since their departure from the mines- lost in thought. He had been assured that the distance to their destination wasn’t terribly far away, though it was an easier venture if they followed the wall through the tundra to the Polar Sound. There wasn’t much cover, but the structure that cut the open area was in varying states of decay. With tumbled over sections, and large outcroppings of rock. At least it wasn’t actively snowing for once. Though the sky seemed like it might threaten to.

With a sudden escaped sigh, Aresenn cast a sideways glance toward the Saxe boy. “I don’t much care for surprises.” He muttered lowly, before realigning his attention to the ground in front of him. Part of him assumed that it was better to not know what was in-store today. He just didn’t know how right that part was.

"Aresenn Praetor"