[Viktor's words are kindly meant, kindly said. It is not his fault that they draw up a bitterness that threatens to choke Ortus - or worse yet, to loosen his tongue, and allow those eighteen (endless) years to spill unguarded from his lips.
He knows precisely why he survived. None of the survivors escaped unscathed, but each were scourged alone, and that has been one of the sharpest barbs of Ortus' grief since his first wretched understanding of that damning why.]
Gideon. [He bends over Rio, his petting growing in assuredness, anxiety pulled in another direction.] She was always robust of constitution. Fortunate as well.
[The child who fell from the sky, who had briefly been the most interesting thing that Ortus ever imagined might happen on their quiet little rock of a world.]
Harrowhark was born some time afterwards. [Some time, to obscure myriad (two hundred) sins.] It was no way for children to be brought up. I have often regretted... [he sighs, looking back up at Viktor with sad, steady gaze] I have often regretted. I suppose such is the lot of adulthood.
no subject
He knows precisely why he survived. None of the survivors escaped unscathed, but each were scourged alone, and that has been one of the sharpest barbs of Ortus' grief since his first wretched understanding of that damning why.]
Gideon. [He bends over Rio, his petting growing in assuredness, anxiety pulled in another direction.] She was always robust of constitution. Fortunate as well.
[The child who fell from the sky, who had briefly been the most interesting thing that Ortus ever imagined might happen on their quiet little rock of a world.]
Harrowhark was born some time afterwards. [Some time, to obscure myriad (two hundred) sins.] It was no way for children to be brought up. I have often regretted... [he sighs, looking back up at Viktor with sad, steady gaze] I have often regretted. I suppose such is the lot of adulthood.