"I've... been trying not to think about it, ever since I woke up here," He admits, shamefacedly, "I haven't told anyone. I've just been... blustering. Avoiding the subject."
Avoiding himself.
Skan sighs, wings heavy alongside his heart. Viktor is no less cheered, and he comes at last to sit by him, his broad shoulder within Viktor's reach and the stone cool and grounding under his elbows. The whole business is a rotten mess: living, and dying, and being brought here. Vengeance was a sour meal. But he can't help any of it, and there's no fighting death itself, was there? Only that which killed you.
"No, I'm not afraid," Skan replies, quietly, and a little ashamed at his own vehemence. It wasn't exactly an honorable path to take, after all, "My initial reaction to him was from the gut, but I've thought about it a great deal since. If my family is here now, then for as long as I'm alive, then I'll defend it to the hilt, no matter what it takes."
Reason be damned, his reputation be damned. He's lost everything else, and is running out of things to lose: it was no time for timidity, here at the end of the road. He refused to lose Viktor too— and he can't bear even the thought of it, without bending to preen at Viktor's hair, to seek the physical closeness that might provide some measure of relief, and comfort.
"I'm no monster: so long as he minds himself, neither will I be any threat to him; I made my line very clear. But the next one might come as Percival did: pointlessly bloodthirsty, with allies and weapons we can't predict. I'm finished with playing games with the safety of those I care about."
no subject
Avoiding himself.
Skan sighs, wings heavy alongside his heart. Viktor is no less cheered, and he comes at last to sit by him, his broad shoulder within Viktor's reach and the stone cool and grounding under his elbows. The whole business is a rotten mess: living, and dying, and being brought here. Vengeance was a sour meal. But he can't help any of it, and there's no fighting death itself, was there? Only that which killed you.
"No, I'm not afraid," Skan replies, quietly, and a little ashamed at his own vehemence. It wasn't exactly an honorable path to take, after all, "My initial reaction to him was from the gut, but I've thought about it a great deal since. If my family is here now, then for as long as I'm alive, then I'll defend it to the hilt, no matter what it takes."
Reason be damned, his reputation be damned. He's lost everything else, and is running out of things to lose: it was no time for timidity, here at the end of the road. He refused to lose Viktor too— and he can't bear even the thought of it, without bending to preen at Viktor's hair, to seek the physical closeness that might provide some measure of relief, and comfort.
"I'm no monster: so long as he minds himself, neither will I be any threat to him; I made my line very clear. But the next one might come as Percival did: pointlessly bloodthirsty, with allies and weapons we can't predict. I'm finished with playing games with the safety of those I care about."