[Maybe he should be nervous. This isn’t the streets of Springstar, when they were sharing a meal. It wasn’t one of the other mysteries happenings that struck Kenos, where faction tensions could be set aside for the sake of some other success.
An Oracle was at stake. And no matter how many in their number hemmed and hawed about if they knew the full truth of things, if the Oracles could really bring their worlds back or make a new one, if they knew what they were fighting for… Hayame is pretty sure Amos feels the exact same way as she does, conclusion-wise. The conclusion of so what? Mystery or not… the Oracles were what their leaders asked for. The only concrete, solid lead on accomplishing their goals that was put in front of them.
So you pursue it and you get them and you fucking win.
But here and now, with these odds and this circumstance… Hayame just takes the blade she’s offered. She draws it just enough to check the sharpness… and then she sheathes it back and sticks it in her obi.]
It will return it to your hand, on my honor.
[She doesn’t say (yet) why she needs it. She says honor, even though she knows Amos has no honor- at least, not any system that would be classified as such in her own. But he does not have to believe in honor. He just has to believe that she believes.
Even as her strength slowly wanes, the equine leftovers of instinct and nature in her body far more susceptible to systemic shock than a human was, she continues onwards. Bit by bit, they remove rock and soil, to the point that she has to shift her heavy body and drag the splinted leg forward slightly, leaving a weeping red trail in her wake.
But eventually, just as she is about to ask him to speak, to give her something she might latch onto with her focus…
no subject
An Oracle was at stake. And no matter how many in their number hemmed and hawed about if they knew the full truth of things, if the Oracles could really bring their worlds back or make a new one, if they knew what they were fighting for… Hayame is pretty sure Amos feels the exact same way as she does, conclusion-wise. The conclusion of so what? Mystery or not… the Oracles were what their leaders asked for. The only concrete, solid lead on accomplishing their goals that was put in front of them.
So you pursue it and you get them and you fucking win.
But here and now, with these odds and this circumstance… Hayame just takes the blade she’s offered. She draws it just enough to check the sharpness… and then she sheathes it back and sticks it in her obi.]
It will return it to your hand, on my honor.
[She doesn’t say (yet) why she needs it. She says honor, even though she knows Amos has no honor- at least, not any system that would be classified as such in her own. But he does not have to believe in honor. He just has to believe that she believes.
Even as her strength slowly wanes, the equine leftovers of instinct and nature in her body far more susceptible to systemic shock than a human was, she continues onwards. Bit by bit, they remove rock and soil, to the point that she has to shift her heavy body and drag the splinted leg forward slightly, leaving a weeping red trail in her wake.
But eventually, just as she is about to ask him to speak, to give her something she might latch onto with her focus…
Their hands pull back dirt to reveal light.]