She's inherited enough of her Sleeper's appreciation for secrets to also know when she's being decoyed off them--and when they aren't really hers to ask, anyway. Much as the protective paternalmaternal streak in her wants to press, she will let it go; she'll trust this fledgling to know his own flock.
Though she might have a little grumbling editorializing about his request when--if--she passes it on to her Sleeper.
Thinking of flocks, and her Sleeper-- She rips up another bit of meat as Deku asks his own question, then sets it back down as if it has lost its savor. No wonder: Her response is flavored with a quiet lonely grief.
people. He is dead; he does not need food, or shelter, or any sort of things. He might refuse or donate them now if someone tried--just as he might refuse offers of help, she knows, for tangled awful reasons she can sense but not pass on. (The problem's half-articulation, and half secret-guarding.) He isn't well where he is, it's enough to say.
But give him those he cared for, and their problems to solve, and he might be drawn out. flock. Flickering image-impressions follow: Kaworu, Paul. Bigby. Nehan. Ives(, the image pale and faded--he is gone, he is gone). Fern. A dozen other Sleepers who've touched his existence, given him a name, been touched in turn.
(There's a notable exclusion. There's an image that flashes past only to be hashed out, erased, negated. Iskierka doesn't think the master of the house with his eclipse-ringed eyes should be there.)
no subject
paternalmaternal streak in her wants to press, she will let it go; she'll trust this fledgling to know his own flock.Though she might have a little grumbling editorializing about his request when--if--she passes it on to her Sleeper.
Thinking of flocks, and her Sleeper-- She rips up another bit of meat as Deku asks his own question, then sets it back down as if it has lost its savor. No wonder: Her response is flavored with a quiet lonely grief.
people. He is dead; he does not need food, or shelter, or any sort of things. He might refuse or donate them now if someone tried--just as he might refuse offers of help, she knows, for tangled awful reasons she can sense but not pass on. (The problem's half-articulation, and half secret-guarding.) He isn't well where he is, it's enough to say.
But give him those he cared for, and their problems to solve, and he might be drawn out. flock. Flickering image-impressions follow: Kaworu, Paul. Bigby. Nehan. Ives(, the image pale and faded--he is gone, he is gone). Fern. A dozen other Sleepers who've touched his existence, given him a name, been touched in turn.
(There's a notable exclusion. There's an image that flashes past only to be hashed out, erased, negated. Iskierka doesn't think the master of the house with his eclipse-ringed eyes should be there.)