Roscarnis de Lylles
NOT A CHAIR
Roscarnis blink. And frowned. There was some disturbance in the air, though he couldn't quite place it. The dead far out-deaded to living now, and the living was trying to cling on parlously to life. There was no need to explain, to campaign, to rationalize. There were some that would get it, and then there were some that won't.
It was getting clear to him now who the last wolf was. It was now a game of numbers it seemed - and the odds, he supposed, was not in his favor.
"Well, well, well." He turned towards Ministra. She had played a good game, from the looks of it, the literal wolf in sheep's clothing. If the sheep was slightly insane and over the top.
"Well played."
He could only hope he won't remember this damn encounter when he returned to Sacrum. He certainly didn't need anymore nightmares.
It was getting clear to him now who the last wolf was. It was now a game of numbers it seemed - and the odds, he supposed, was not in his favor.
"Well, well, well." He turned towards Ministra. She had played a good game, from the looks of it, the literal wolf in sheep's clothing. If the sheep was slightly insane and over the top.
"Well played."
He could only hope he won't remember this damn encounter when he returned to Sacrum. He certainly didn't need anymore nightmares.
Roscarnis votes for Ministra