[There’s a flash of surprise—almost angry—as the gauntlet collides with an invisible force. So, Silco had that little trick up his sleeve too? Vander knew he wouldn’t be the only one keeping busy during these last few months, and it served as a reminder that he didn’t truly know what Silco could be capable of in a world like this. He needed to be on his guard.

He took a careful step back, then another. Winced as that wound in his back sang a pointed reminder of its presence. He needed to get through this before things got any worse.]

There’s no justifying any of this—this pointless feud.

[The words were both angry and so damn exhausted. What the hell did they have left to fight over with everything gone? Old memories, old mistakes perpetuated over and over again? (He already knew the answer, loathed to acknowledge it—they wound up on different sides of this budding conflict for a reason, after all.)

His wounded hand slid over to rest upon the other gauntlet that remained on the table beside him, though his gaze never left Silco.]

We can do this song and dance over and over, but it’s not going to get us anywhere.

[He knows he may as well be trying to persuade a brick wall, but Vander wouldn’t be Vander if he didn’t at least try.]