[Stephen knows, perhaps, that itβs never anything good. Maybe itβs just in his nature to be wary (and weary) and cynical, but he arrives with every line in his body taut. Eyes casting over the room, nearing the bar where Yennefer sits β though he takes no seat of his own, simply leaning a hip against it with his arms crossed tightly at his chest.
Heβs right, of course. Itβs nothing good. It's a coup, an upheaval headed straight toward where they live.
Stephen closes his eyes, sighing softly sometime mid-explanation. He lets the others ply their questions, moving the possibilities around in his head. Already trying to judge which actions they should take, now, even though itβs too early to come to any real conclusion.
As much as he hates to toss one more question onto Thancredβs plate before theyβve truly begun, he supposes thatβs the burden his friend must bear for taking the lead. And soβ]
βCaught up in this.β [Wry.] Say it like it is. Punished, you mean.
no subject
Heβs right, of course. Itβs nothing good. It's a coup, an upheaval headed straight toward where they live.
Stephen closes his eyes, sighing softly sometime mid-explanation. He lets the others ply their questions, moving the possibilities around in his head. Already trying to judge which actions they should take, now, even though itβs too early to come to any real conclusion.
As much as he hates to toss one more question onto Thancredβs plate before theyβve truly begun, he supposes thatβs the burden his friend must bear for taking the lead. And soβ]
βCaught up in this.β [Wry.] Say it like it is. Punished, you mean.